


Safe Haven

by McRaider



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a dad, Crowley is a good dad, Crowley tries to be a good dad, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Gaslighting, Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Homophobia, Hurt Crowley, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kid Fic, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Pining Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Supportive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Transgender, Transphobia, Violence, ex-wife war has made it hard for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-05-30 16:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19407502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRaider/pseuds/McRaider
Summary: When Anthony Crowley stepped back into Aziraphale's life for the first time after eight long years missing, it became exceedingly clear with him came a world of trouble and heartache. But Aziraphale never could say no to his beloved Crowley. Can he help Crowley heal after a failed marriage, a gas-lighting ex-wife with an evil plan?





	1. Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea, which comes from a number of other ideas percolating in my brain. So I decided to run with it. I love the idea of Crowley with kids or around kids. This is a human AU, everyone is human. If you see any errors please let me know, I tried to catch everything. Also if anyone is interested in creating fanart I'd be very open to that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta: Aureia! You're amazing. Please note there have been some changes to chapters 1 and 2

Chapter One-

It was raining and cold, as he pulled his overcoat tighter around his thin lithe frame to ward off the November chill. He stood in front of the old store. He could tell every tale about it, how it had been in the family for generations, dating back to the early 1600s. How the bookshop had always been meant as more of a library than an actual shop for selling the books. He could tell you about the three children that were raised within it’s walls, how those three children had grown into men and one woman, how they had become successful adults. He could talk about their loves and hates, their sorrows and passions, first kisses, and other firsts that he wouldn’t tell anyone about.

He reached out, reverence in his shaking hand as he pressed it to the old wood and brick frame of a building that had existed far longer than him.   
It had been nearly eight years since he’d last seen this door frame, since he’d last set foot in this shop. It had been his home away from home, his shelter against a horrible childhood and even more wretched teen years. It had been where he’d first discovered love, where he’d learned what unconditional love meant. 

His heart ached with the building as if it were mourning the passing of another one of its owners. Six months ago now, but this was the first he could get here. His own life a mess, it had only just started getting back to some semblance of normal. With a deep, shaky breath that was filled with nerves, he pushed the door open, hearing the small bell over the door chime at his entrance. 

It was just like he recalled--the smell of books, ancient and new, the scent of wood, old and slightly stale papers, and candles. There were a few people by the various shelves which were lined with old and new books alike and in the middle of the store stood a table with a globe on it. The feeling was one of warmth and love. He could sense it all around him, the memories, the happiness. He saw flashes of himself, much younger, running around chasing the little blonde haired boy as they giggled. His teenage self kissing the blonde up against the bookshelves, their first time on the blonde's bed upstairs above the shop all the memories rushing towards him.

“Can I help—” the slight intake of air was enough to bring him back to awareness and his eyes shot over to look at the man before him. Certainly, the other man had aged, but to his eyes his old friend was just as beautiful and wonderful as he remembered him from eight years ago. He was a bit stockier around the middle, but his friend's eyes were still a beautiful ice blue, and his face still angelic as it filled with delight.

“Crowley,” the whisper was filled with love and emotion.

“Hello Aziraphale,” Crowley replied, his tenor voice filled with an equal amount of happiness. Oh, how he’d missed this man before him. 

Aziraphale moved closer as if afraid Crowley might disappear. He reached out, with a shaking hand, to touch Crowley’s chiseled chin and cheekbones. It stopped short.

“I’m not allowed to anymore, am I?” Aziraphale questioned. 

Crowley reached out and grabbed the brilliant man by his shoulder, pulling him in close for a hug. The two men latched onto one another as if they were their final lifelines.

“Always, Aziraphale, always,” he murmured as Aziraphale pressed his face to Crowley’s neck.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier,” Crowley offered. 

Aziraphale let out a small wet laugh. “Quite all right, dear boy. You’re here now,” after another long moment of embrace, he stepped back and looked Crowley up and down. “My goodness, you’re handsome,” he smiled. 

Crowley laughed, gripping one of Aziraphale’s hands in his own. “You said I was handsome when we were just wee things,” he replied. 

Aziraphale nodded. “It’s true you always were. How are you, Crowley? How’s…how’s marriage suiting you,” he choked on the last word, his heart breaking with the knowledge that it should’ve been him married to Crowley. 

Crowley wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder and gave him a sad smile. “I’m not married anymore. Didn’t work out,” he offered as if that explained everything.

Crowley knew he’d have to tell his friend everything at some point, but for now, he prayed it would be enough for his best friend. The past eight years hadn’t been kind to Crowley, they had been the hardest years of his life and it showed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept through the night. Then again, he couldn’t recall the last time his children had slept through the night.

“Do you have some time to sit and chat?” Aziraphale asked, snapping Crowley out of his thoughts once more.

Crowley glanced at his watch and smiled. “I actually have to run a real quick errand, if you’d like to join, then perhaps we can come back here for tea and hot cocoa?” Crowley said a silent prayer that his friend would want to. Crowley knew it had to be weird, your best friend coming back after all this time, only to then leave immediately, but Crowley had come down here because he needed stability in his life again. He needed a constant, and Aziraphale had always been that constant for him.

Aziraphale beamed at that. “I would love to! Newt!” he called back over his shoulder and a young man who’d been bringing books out from the back, his arms laden with a number of larger materials, met Aziraphale’s gaze. “I’m going out for a walk. feel free to close up while I’m gone, and I will lock up once I get back.” 

Newt gave him a solemn nod and Aziraphale grabbed his jacket near the door, along with a large umbrella. They stepped back into the rain. “Newton Pulsifer, he’s an odd sort, quiet, terrible with computers. But he works hard and he’s smart, hired him shortly after da’ died.”

“I was at the funeral, in the back,” Crowley mentioned as they walked along the street of Soho. Every so often, Crowley’s eyes would flicker across the people they passed, assessing faces and looking for a familiar one, or perhaps a familiar two these days. He had to mentally shake himself; she didn’t know where he was. He’d gone to great lengths to hide them. Crowley tried not to jump and jerk away when one passerby bumped into him.

“You should’ve stopped and said hello,” Aziraphale replied, watching his friends new habits. Crowley had always been jumpy, came from a childhood where your father used you more as a punching bag than child. But this was a new level of something. Aziraphale forced a smile at his old friend, wondering what had brought Crowley to his front door this day? After all, it had been eight years of radio silence. But then, another part of Aziraphale’s mind remembered how much he had missed this man, he had missed the ease with which they spoke, were able to just be around one another. Perhaps it wasn’t right to question it just yet, for now he should be grateful he supposed.

“I’ll be honest, things have been,” Crowley shrugged, “difficult lately, and that’s putting it mildly. A lot has been going on, and much of it not good. There are a couple of people I want you to meet first, and then we can catch up properly.” Crowley wasn’t even sure where to begin, or how to begin, he hadn’t told anyone what was going on, well he’d told Jacob’s counselor of course, and the social workers, but other than that no one knew what was going on in his world. Crowley struggled to wrap his brain around all of it, really. Crowley didn’t want to be seen as weak.

They stopped in front of the Soho Primary school and family center, just as the doors burst open and kids started pouring out. Aziraphale couldn’t express his excitement at the idea that perhaps Crowley had a child. He’d always thought Crowley would make a wonderful father and to his delight, he was right.

“Daddy!” a delighted squeal echoed through the air, before Crowley swept a small child, no more than three or four off her feet and into his arms. He whirled the little one around, pressing a kiss to the chubby little cheek, before bringing her to rest on his hip. To Aziraphale’s surprise, a second child hurried up and clung to Crowley’s leg. 

“Aziraphale, I’d like you to meet my son and daughter, this is Jacob and Madi,” Crowley’s large hand rested gently on the boy’s soft red hair. “Madi, Jake, I’d like you to meet my dear friend Aziraphale, or as I’ve spoken of him, Zira.” 

Aziraphale felt his cheeks warm with the knowledge that Crowley had spoken of him to his children. Madi was burying her face in Crowley’s neck, hiding, clearly the shyer of the two. But Jake was looking up at him with big hazel brown eyes. “Daddy talks about you all the time!” Jake said excitedly as he grabbed Aziraphale’s hand. The boy was the spitting image of his father, with sharp facial features, gangly legs and arms--yet somehow despite being barely six it seemed the boy had far more grace than his father ever did.

Together the four headed back to the Soho bookshop, Aziraphale holding the boy’s hand, while Madi curled against her father’s chest. All the while Jake animatedly told them both about his day. Aziraphale was delighted to be included in such a special treat, but as he watched Crowley continue to eyeball every person who passed by, and clutch his daughter closer to his chest something in Aziraphale grew hard and cold. The child was gripping her father’s shirt, as though she was fearful of letting go. Whatever brought Crowley here, brought his children here, it wasn’t good, and clearly Crowley sought out Aziraphale because he needed a friend he could trust. As Aziraphale squeezed Jacob’s hand, he gave the boy an excited smile and nod, then glancing at Crowley, who afforded him a tight smile, the bookshop owner made a promise to himself that—whoever--had done this to his love, would never, ever hurt any of them again.

TBC


	2. A Boy Who isn't a Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finally opens up about what caused his divorce, and he tells Aziraphale why he's really here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags, there is transphobia and homophobia discussed in this chapter as well as past child abuse.

Chapter Two

Much like the trip to pick up his children, Crowley spent most of the walk back to the bookshop looking around as though someone may well jump out of the shadows at them. Even more so, Jacob, despite being an excited little boy talking to an otherwise complete stranger, also kept glancing around occasionally. He never once released Aziraphale’s hand and it made something deep in Aziraphale’s gut twist.

The little girl, only three or four, seemed absolutely intent on never seeing the world passing by. She wasn’t curious like most children her age, she didn’t seem interested in taking it all in and asking millions of questions. Instead, her pretty little face was buried in her father’s neck and shoulders; only occasionally did hazel green eyes peek out from over his jacket to glance around.

Aziraphale’s heart went out to the two children, to be so young and so mistrusting of the world already, the very idea was heartbreaking. What on earth had happened to these poor children that left them feeling like no one was trustworthy? As Aziraphale listened to the little boy tell him about a new book their teacher was reading him, Aziraphale made a mental promise to himself that he would be another person these children could trust. Despite knowing them a few short minutes, he was determined to make their lives feel safer.

Approaching the shop, Aziraphale chuckled when Jake started jumping up and down with excitement.

“You live in a bookshop!” Jake squealed in delight as he tried to pull his way to the door.

Aziraphale chuckled as he pulled out his key. “I also own the bookshop,” he explained as he pushed the door open. The customers from earlier had left, but the lights were still on and Aziraphale could hear Newt in the back--finishing up some final inventory most likely. Crouching down beside the little boy he gave Jake a smile, “You are welcome here anytime, with or without your da, this can be your safe place,” he encouraged and he didn’t miss the giant relieved smirk that spread across Crowley’s face as he stepped inside and shut the door.

“This is amazing!” Jake shrieked as he hugged Aziraphale’s neck as tight as he could.

Aziraphale couldn’t resist wrapping his own arms around the little boy and hugging him close in return.

“I bet I’ve got some hot chocolate in the back if you’re interested. A nice chilly evening like this, would you like to read and have some cocoa?”

“Can we dad?” Jake looked up over Aziraphale's shoulder at his father.

Crowley knelt down, setting Madi on her feet and pulled something out of the girl’s backpack, handing it to her. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at the small stuffed snake the girl now gripped against her chest between one arm. Crowley nodded at his son.

“Sure, make sure you finish any homework before you start reading every book in this place.”

“Dad that could take years!” Jake rolled his eyes animatedly at his father.

The smirk that crossed Crowley’s features was a familiar one, filled with fondness and exasperation. Standing, Aziraphale led the family of three through the bookshop,

“Why don’t you pick a book you’d like to read, and we’ll head upstairs to my flat.”

Jake went straight to the fantasy section. Madi was quick to follow him, gripping his hand the whole way while Aziraphale slipped into the back office where he had a kettle for boiling water. Crowley stood between the front and back, keeping an eye on his kids, while watching Aziraphale move with familiar ease around his back room.

Newton stepped into the room, giving his boss a short smile and nod.

“Everything’s put away for the night, sir.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’ve told you, dear boy, you needn’t call me sir. Aziraphale is fine. You did well today, have a good evening,” the young man nodded his head and made his way out of the bookshop, closing it and locking up behind him. Aziraphale made a couple of notes in his daily logs. He glanced up at Crowley. “Are you all right, dear? Please don’t think I’m unhappy to see you, but well…you seem unsettled.”

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale, considering the man for a long moment. He knew he owed his old friend an explanation. Aziraphale had always been there for him, and he understood that Crowley wasn’t a huge fan of emotions, or talking about his emotions.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, just…” He sighed rubbing at his eyes, before he ran his hand through his wild hair.

“I needed familiarity, I needed a friendly face.”

Aziraphale stood, pushing away from the desk he’d moved over to. Walking to Crowley, he reached out and pressed his hand against Crowley’s chest.,

“I don’t care what brought you back, Crowley. Just that you're back. I’ve missed you terribly, and whatever has caused you such feelings of fear and worry, I’m glad you knew this was a place you could feel safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, to give you somewhere to feel safe.”

Crowley brought his hand up to cover Aziraphale’s. “Thank you.”

Before he could say any more Jake hurried over, followed by Madi who was still clutching her snake in her hand. She continued to give Aziraphale looks of nervousness, as if she was trying to assess him. Aziraphale looked down at her, trying to give her his kindest and gentlest smile. She was a pretty little thing, long strawberry blonde hair, freckles that painted her nose and cheeks and pale blue eyes.

Jake thrust a book up at his father. “Is this one okay?” he questioned.

Crowley accepted it and looked it over, smiling at _The Hobbit_. “It’s a favorite of mine. Why don’t we head upstairs, you see how much you can read to your sister.”

They made their way up to the flat. It wasn’t anything terrible special. It had two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a small living area where Aziraphale had a television but he rarely watched it. “I believe there’s a bean bag chair over in the corner you two might enjoy reading on. I’ll put your drinks on the table beside you,” Aziraphale offered while he moved through the kitchen to make the teas and hot cocoa.

“Why do you have a beanbag chair?” Crowley asked with a curious smirk.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “My sister’s son, Adam, likes to come over and plays his video games sitting in it. Says he can get closer to the telly--he’s a little older than Jacob actually.” He carried two cups of cocoa, one smaller with a lid on it, over to the table next to the beanbag chair where Madi was now securely sitting in Jake’s lap.

“Your sister got married, good for her,” Crowley was grinning as he took a seat on the couch.

Aziraphale joined him, handing Crowley a cup of tea. “Yes, a rather nice man, named Arthur. They don’t live exciting lives, but then I suppose none of us does.” He paused, then carefully added, “You said you aren’t married anymore. A single father or do you two share custody?” He didn’t miss the slight falter in Jake’s voice, who had been reading up to this point, at the question, but just like his father Jake picked up immediately and started reading as he’d never stopped.

“No, I'm...It's just me there days.” Crowley replied shakily, looking uncomfortable. It made Aziraphale feel as if his friend was leaving something out. Something important.

“I'm sorry I took so long to come to see you,” Crowley then offered earnestly, moist, lost and apologetic eyes meeting Aziraphale's own warm blue. “I've missed you, desperately, but as I said, things have been a bit... unstable lately.”

There it was again. Something more _was_ there and though Aziraphale got the distinct feeling that Crowley wanted – needed – to confide in him, desperately, he also realized his friend was terribly scared. It hurt to think that Crowley felt unsure whether he could trust him with this secret, unsure of how he would react, but he decided to keep his silence for now, planning to confront Crowley later in the privacy of his bedroom, with the children safely sleeping in another room.

“Oh dear Crowley, please do not apologize. You have children, they must come first. If you don’t wish to talk about that, then tell me about these two beautiful children you brought into this world? They look so much like you,” Aziraphale smiled, looking over at them. “How old are they?”

“Madi is three and a half, Jake is six, though most days he acts closer to thirty,” Crowley smiled lovingly as he looked over at his son.

“Eldest son, it’s a tough job,” Aziraphale offered in return.

Crowley nodded. “Right then, how are you, how’s your mum?”

Aziraphale sighed. “She’s as cranky as ever.”

It was a joke, but not untrue, at nearly seventy-five his mum was driving his younger sister mad. Aziraphale had been all too happy to take over the family bookshop if it meant not caring for his mother. God knew he loved her, but the woman drove him crazy. “Still asks after you, never had the heart to tell her we completely lost touch for nearly a decade.”

Crowley frowned, “I’m sorry, Zira, please know I never wanted it to be like this.”

“Of course I do, love. I always knew. We were careful and quiet and respectful, but it just wasn’t a good time to be…out,” Aziraphale shrugged.

“What about your dad, still alive then?”

“Not really sure, been avoiding him successfully for the better part of two decades,” Crowley admitted, “if he’s still alive, he doesn’t seem anymore interested in me than I am in him.”

Aziraphale was glad to hear that, truthfully, he’d worried about Crowley all through school. He studied his old friend, considering him for a long minute. Crowley was as tall and gangly as he’d always been, but there was something else there now, as though he never quite ate enough or slept enough. There were circles under his eyes, and a wild sort of occasional glance in his eyes as though he was expecting something to happen any second. It struck Aziraphale that Crowley had glanced at his watch, at the door and at his children at least several dozen times during the entirety of their conversation. Crowley had always been an observant individual, taking in all the sights and sounds. Yet, this was different; there was something distinctly anxious about his movements and they way he watched his children, as though they may well disappear at any given second.

“What do you do for work, these days?” Aziraphale prompted, deciding it was best to let Crowley discuss what was truly bothering him on his own terms.

“Office job I’m afraid, very boring. I still draw and paint when I have some time though,” Crowley explained. Painting and drawing, his art in general, was one of the few things that gave him real joy. It was something he kept mostly to himself.

Aziraphale gave him a warm smile. )“That’s wonderful darling, truly.” The pair lapsed into familiar and fond chit chat, as Crowley told him various stories from when Jake was a baby and toddler, while Aziraphale filled him in on the latest happenings with his family and owning his own bookshop.

It was a quarter past ten when Crowley glanced at his watch and realized they’d spent hours just talking, it had been ages since he’d done that with anyone and with others, it had never felt so relieving. He glanced over at the beanbag chair to see both son and daughter fast asleep, Madi curled up on Jake’s lap.

“They really are quite precious,” Aziraphale offered.

“They’re good kids,” a slow smile spread across Crowley’s face as he watched the pair sleep. “Madi was eight months old when her mum had a horrible bout of post partum depression and tried to smother her with a pillow.” It came out like lava flowing from a volcano, unstoppable and burning with ferocity at the memory.

“My god.”

“Jake, he was just over three at the time, heard the baby crying and then stop crying and he ran in to see what was going on. It was the first time his mother ever hit him. He pushed her, it wasn’t much, but she tripped over a toy and fell backwards. Hit the back of her head on the chest of drawers. Jake moved quick, he grabbed Madi from her crib, and took her into his room. Called 999, and hid in the closet. Madi was thankfully still breathing, though barely. I arrived at the same time the paramedics did.” Crowley shivered with the memory.

“Oh Crowley, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry, is that when you divorced?” Aziraphale asked, shock washing through him at how close Crowley had come to having only one child instead of two.

Crowley shook his head, meeting Aziraphale’s eyes. Aziraphale was shocked at how much guilt and fear and pain seemed to be settling behind those brown orbs.

“No, she was sick, I figured a few weeks in a treatment facility and some medications and we could go back to being a family. Mind you, I knew by then she had this habit of accusations and cruel words. She’d been gas lighting me for the better part of four years. Suppose I hoped that maybe it would stop once she was medicated. I was wrong, she didn’t want to take the medications, said they made her drowsy. Then she started her claims: I was abusing her, I wanted to control her so I was making her take these pills, I was trying to control the children and make them hate her. Didn’t need to do that, she was doing a fine job by herself, constantly yelling, telling them how useless and stupid they were. She and I got into rows nearly every night, but I couldn’t leave, she’d threaten to kill herself, or threaten to file charges on sexual assault. I stayed,” the admission was filled with misery. Aziraphale reached out and gripped his friend’s hand, incredibly thankful to feel Crowley grip it back just as hard.

“What changed?”

Crowley took a slow deep breath, it was now or never, if Aziraphale couldn’t handle this, then they were well and truly alone in the world. “Madeline was born Matthew.”

Aziraphale paled and his face shot over to the girl. “Please tell me she didn’t force Madi to be a boy.”

The grip on Crowley’s heart eased a little. “She started presenting classic signs of being transgender around two, when she could talk and express her opinions a little clearer. She wanted girl colors, wanted to dress like a girl, look like a girl and be treated like a girl. Her mother would insist I take her into the boys' restroom and Madi would throw a fit. ‘I’m a girl mommy, I don’t want to be with the boys!’ she would scream. It happened nearly every time we went out. It was embarrassing on some level I suppose, having your child scream at the top of their lungs that they didn’t want to be taken to the restroom filled with boys. I used to think people would take them away on that merit alone. Enyo insisted we not treat Madeline as a girl, that his name was Matthew and that he be treated as a boy, after all we were the parents we had a precedent to set.”

Aziraphale could feel the guilt rolling off his friend in waves, like a rising tide. “Oh darling, you spent years being forced to keep your sexuality quiet, that had to be painful, the thought of having to do it to your own child.”

“I couldn’t do it, Zira. I spent years trying to be the perfect son of a man who didn’t give a damn about me. I spent years hiding that I was bisexual, fearful if anyone found out, aside from you, they’d never understand. They didn’t, Enyo certainly didn’t. Madi had just turned three, it was her birthday, we were having a big party, but she was miserable. Everything was in blues and greens, all she got were boy’s toys. She was absolutely devastated, that night when we put her to bed, I asked her what her wish was when she blew out the candles. She said she wished when she died God would bring her back as a girl.”

Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath, his blue eyes shooting back over to the beautiful little girl draped over Jake’s lap. The young boy already appeared so protective of her. “Good heavens, do you think she was suicidal?”

Crowley shrugged. “I think she was a three year old who didn’t really understand death, but definitely understood what it meant to be stuck in a body that didn't feel like hers. So, I put my foot down that night. I told Enyo we had a son and a daughter and if she couldn’t cope with that, then we’d have to make some tough decisions. She threatened to divorce me, have me arrested for child abuse and all other sorts of threats.” Crowley seemed to fall into himself then, his arms coming around his middle in a self hug as he stared first at his children, lip trembling, then at Aziraphale. Suddenly, that there was something Crowley had trouble admitting, even to him, wasn't important anymore. It never truly had been. All that mattered to Aziraphale was lessening the pain Crowley projected. On impulse, he pulled his friend into a hug. Crowley stiffened.

“I panicked, Zira. Just took them and ran,” Crowley finally forced out with a whimper, tears soaking through Aziraphale's clothes. Aziraphale tightened his arms around his friend, feeling as if it had been a long time since Crowley had let himself cry, with how he crumbled into his arms, clinging to him desperately. In fact, he couldn't recall even one occasion where he'd seen his friend truly let go as he did now.

“You're a hero standing up for Madi, she deserves to feel and be whoever she wants,” he whispered comfortingly into Crowley's ear. It was true that they needed to deal with the sort of abduction Crowley had just admitted to, but for now, it was far more important to Aziraphale to tell Crowley what a good father he was.

“I couldn't watch another child go through life as miserable as I'd been, knowing they couldn't be who they wanted to be or love who they wanted because of something assigned to them at birth.” Crowley sat back, red puffy eyes suddenly shining with a fire that made Aziraphale's heart flutter. It was good to see fight in his friends eyes for a change, instead of devastation and fear. He took care to exude calm, support and most importantly, love, as Crowley searched his eyes.  


“I just couldn't,” Crowley finally declared firmly, voice a bit raspy. Aziraphale took his hand, nodding.  


“Good for you,” he complimented, feeling inordinately proud of his friend.

“You took the kids and ran. That’s why you’re looking around constantly.”

Crowley nodded, miserable. “Among other things. She wasn’t afraid to be violent, she hit both the kids on a few occasions and myself, though you try telling that to a copper and you get called soft.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Crowley. I’m glad you came here, if being here, feeling safe helps, you and your children are always welcome here.” He paused, heaving a sigh. “We'll have to inform the courts where you and the children are.” Crowley seemed to lose all color, trying to withdraw his hand but Aziraphale held fast, forcing eye contact by gently, but firmly pushing Crowley's head up.

“You know we have to, love. We can still make a case that you had just forgotten to inform her that you were taking them on vacation, to see their 'uncle' Zira.” Crowley gave a slow, shaky smile.

“Godfather, actually,” he corrected softly and Aziraphale felt his heart jump with pride and joy, “I've made you their godfather. Convinced her to agree, too.” Crowley stopped smiling, looking uncertain. “I mean, if you're okay with it, that is,” he added. Aziraphale smiled.

“Of course I am. I feel honored to be given such a position.” He squeezed his friend's hand, looking meeting his eyes. “I'll stand by you, whatever comes, dear. Thank you for trusting me.”

Crowley squeezed his hand back gratefully, his responding, hopeful smile warming Aziraphale's heart. He was under no illusions that the following weeks or months would test them. But they would get through it. He looked at his friend, took in his emaciated, sickly frame, gut twisting. They _had_ too.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enyo is the Greek counterpart of Roman Latin Bellona, meaning “warlike.” In mythology, Enyo was a goddess of war known as the “waster of cities,” depicted as being covered in blood and carrying weapons, and a companion (possibly sister or mother) of Ares. She is meant to represent the character "war" from the GO series and book. I wrote this because I wanted to see a different perspective than one we usually see, equally, I think men are far less likely to report situations like the one Crowley is in because they're embarrassed by it. I wanted to explore those feelings some and write something different I hadn't seen in the fandom yet. Sorry Crowley.


	3. Crepes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale makes breakfast with his newfound God children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: small changes were made in chapter two, please go back and reread that chapter for the sake of better understanding this chapter.

Chapter Three

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how long they sat there in companionable silence while he took in everything he’d just been told. He’d all but inherited two children if what Crowley was saying was true. Aziraphale considered how that made him feel for a minute, he’d always liked children of course. He wouldn’t be opposed to caring for them, either, but was he a capable guardian? Not to mention, the mere thought of what would need to happen for him to become the kids guardian turned his stomach.

“Zira?” Crowley’s nervous tone brought Aziraphale back from his thoughts and concerns. He looked back at the man he’d fallen in love with so many years ago. “I’m sorry, this was too much, I know you say I go to fast for you, please forgive me,” Crowley rambled as he stood up preparing to grab his kids, when Aziraphale's hand snapped out and gripped his wrist. Crowley jumped.

“Dear boy, give me a minute to process all the information you gave me,” Aziraphale’s response was short and to the point as he pulled Crowley back down to the couch. He hadn’t meant for his response to sound short, but Crowley was filled with self doubt, sometimes he needed to be pulled from inside his own head.

“Of course I'll be happy to care for them, watch over them and protect them. Crowley, they’re your children. I will love them like my own, because anything that’s yours is a part of you, which means I love it as much as I love you. That will never change, my dear.” Crowley winced a bit as Aziraphale's grip unintentionally became a bit bruising. Apologetic, Aziraphale let go of his arm, pulling him loosely against his side instead. “I just don't want to think about what would have had to happen to you for me to become their guardian.” Aziraphale said tightening his hold. “Also, I confess I am a bit scared whether I'll be a good guardian.”

“You will be, I'm sure of it,” Crowley said forcefully, staring at Aziraphale, aghast that the other man doubted his capabilities. Aziraphale smiled gratefully.

“Thank you, my dear.”

“I want to be with you, Aziraphale, I’m just not sure if the kids are ready for that, or how it’ll reflect on the court,” Crowley whispered after a while. It startled Aziraphale a little, as he'd thought his friend had fallen asleep, exhausted as he surely was.

“Hush, we’ll worry about all of that later. I don’t need to bed you to have you in my life constantly. Just your presence is enough. Stay the night, the children can have my guest room, I can sleep on the couch if you’d like.”

Crowley giggled. “No one uses the phrase 'bed you' anymore, angel” The old nickname slipped out without conscious thought, warming Aziraphale and making a blush raise to his cheeks. “I'll sleep with the children this time though, if you don't mind.”

“That's alright, love.” He offered another hug, delighted that Crowley willingly stepped into his arms, snuggling close and hugging back with all his might. “I'm glad you came to me, love and feel honored you confided in me. Never forget, I will be here for you and your children as long as you need and want me to, in whatever capacity you'll have me.”

Crowley sniffled once more, laughing self-deprecatingly, clearly embarrassed.

“Sorry for crying all the time. I'm normally not this emotional.”

“Oh Anthony, love, it's all right. No need for apologies or embarrassment. You're entitled to feel out of sorts. I am so very sorry you've had to go through all that.”

“I’m fine, I have to be,” Crowley muttered as he pulled away, looking more exhausted than ever.

Aziraphale huffed, “No, actually you don’t. Crowley, dear, you're allowed to show your emotions, just as they are. Come now, let’s get them to bed.”

With a soft chuckle, the two men stood and approached the beanbag; Crowley lifted Madi with the familiar ease of a practiced father, pressing a kiss to her head. Aziraphale was unsure at first what to do with Jake, would he want to be carried? Would he want to walk on his own? Aziraphale knelt down, prepared to pull the child into his arms when familiar hazel brown eyes opened and looked up at him. It was as if Aziraphale was looking into the past, a familiar little boy standing before him, eyeballing his apple juice. A friendship forged through taking care of one another. Aziraphale gave Jake a small smile.

Jacob reached out and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, it was clear he’d made up his mind, he wanted to be carried. The bookkeeper lifted the boy up into his arms, getting used to having the weight in his arms and found himself grinning from ear to ear when a little nose buried itself in his neck. Aziraphale realized he may already be madly in love with these two little ones.

The two men headed into the extra bedroom, Crowley set Madi down on one side of the queen bed, looking down at how small she looked in such a big bed. He swept her hair from her forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to her head.

Aziraphale meanwhile, had moved to put Jake down beside his sister. “He looks just like you,” Aziraphale whispered, the memories were flooding him, honestly.

“Yes he does,” Crowley replied a knowing smirk playing across his handsome features.

“Right then, have a good night, dear.”

“Good night, Zira and thank you.”

Aziraphale had never cared much about sleep, he got his required five or six hours in and then he was up like normal puttering around with a cup of tea in hand. This time, he decided because of his guests to leave the store closed a little longer than normal on a Saturday morning. He headed into the kitchen trying to decide what to make for breakfast when he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. Glancing over his shoulder he noticed two sets of eyes peering around the corner into the kitchen from the hallway.

“Hmmm, I wonder what Madi and Jacob would like for breakfast,” he wondered out loud as he looked into his fridge, ignoring the giggles he could clearly hear from behind him. He smiled, it was nice to hear them both laugh. Yesterday they’d mostly seemed nervous around him.

“I like pamcakes!” Madi said eagerly as she hurried over to the table where she tried to pull herself up onto one of the chairs.

Aziraphale, able to see it wasn’t going to end well if she tipped the chair over, swept her up off her feet. “Perhaps you’d like to help me make some pancakes, or maybe crepes?” he asked her, his eyes widened with delight.

“What are craps?” Jacob asked as he moved further into the kitchen as well. He was just tall enough to see and reach on top of the counter. Aziraphale stiffled a giggle. “Crepes, dear boy. Crepes,” he corrected gently.

Madi seemed unsure about being in Aziraphale’s arms for a moment. She stared at the man for a long minute. “You look like an angel,” she said brushing her hand against his cheeks, and giggled when she felt the familiar feel of stubble. “You have prickles like daddy.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well thank you, miss Madeline, you look like an angel too,” he offered.

Her eyes widened and when she had processed what he’d said, she threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Aziraphale wrapped both his arms tight around the little girl, giving her a small squeeze, “Oh my little darling, you are free to be whoever you need to be,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. That seemed to win Jake over even more as he hugged Aziraphale’s leg.

“Right then, they’re called kre-ips, long on the first part, short on the second, it’s a French word, do you two know where French comes from?”

“France,” Jacob said excitedly.

“Oui,” Aziraphale replied, making both children giggle again. He set Madi on her feet and moving over to the table he grabbed one of the chairs, pulling it over.

“Crepes are typically a breakfast, they’re similar to pancakes, but are thinner and usually come stuffed with something.”

“Like what?” Madi questioned.

The angelic man considered this for a second. “Well, I suppose that depends on what you like, sweetheart. I’ve seen peanut butter and bananas, I’ve seen nutella and bananas, I’ve seen just a sweet cream and some strawberries. I suppose the possibilities are endless.”

“Can I have a pizza one?” Jake asked.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Perhaps one evening we will make a pizza one just for you, how about we stick to breakfast foods for now to make it easier?”

Jacob nodded in understanding and looked at the supplies Aziraphale had pulled out. “Can we help you cook?”

Aziraphale beamed. “I would love if you two helped me. Jake, have you ever cut foods before?”

“I cut up carrots sometimes when dad’s cooking,” he replied. “I never cut myself once,” his chest puffed out a bit at that.

Aziraphale grinned and pet the boy’s head. “Excellent job, then you shall be our chopper, I was thinking apples, have you ever cut an apple?” When he got a head shake, he took out a paring knife and handed it to the boy, he lifted him up on the chair and slowly with his hand over Jake’s on the knife he showed him how to cut the apple. Jake mimicked him diligently and then Aziraphale removed his hands and watched as Jake repeated the movement on his own.

“Excellent, I think you’re ready, we’ve got five apples here, can you cut all of them up?”

“Kay!”

“What about me Mr. Fell, what can I do?” Madi questioned eagerly.

Aziraphale smiled as he pulled over another chair. “I’ve got a very special task for you, little one. You’re going to help me measure out the ingredients for the crepes. Here now,” he lifted her up and put her on the chair and showed her each ingredient. Together they began to carefully measure everything out. He poured the milk for her. “Now, this is a whisk, can you mix that until there a no lumps left?”

“Yeah,” Madi said smiling.

Jake glanced over his shoulder. “Try to keep it in the bowl, Mads,” he joked.

Madi stuck her tongue out at him, making him grin from ear to ear. Aziraphale measured some butter and put it in a pan.

“Right bring the apples over here, Jake, and put them in the pan.”

“What then?” Jake asked as he carefully got off his chair and moved his chair over. He climbed back on the chair, with Aziraphale’s watchful hands behind him, and lifted the board, Aziraphale supporting it while Jake dumped the apples in the pan.

“We’re going to cover them with sugar and cinnamon.”

“I love cinnamon,” Jake grinned.

Aziraphale chuckled, “It’s quite good isn’t it. Very nice cutting job Jake.”

Crowley had woken up a few minutes earlier, hearing his children excitedly exclaiming something down the hall. As he got up and moved into the hallway he took in the sight of the man he’d loved since he was Jake’s age, helping them cook breakfast with him. Something in his chest swelled and he realized he’d made a grave mistake all those years ago walking away from this beautiful and perfect man. He noticed Aziraphale catch sight of him. Tthe man opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley pressed a finger to his lips, he wanted to watch for a minute longer, so Aziraphale went back to work with the kids.

“Oi, what’s this all about, I wake up and there’s no warm bodies kicking me awake,” he whined finally as he stepped into the kitchen.

“DADDY!” Madi squealed and jumped off the chair, which Crowley was willing to admit had made him more nervous than happy. He swept her up into his arms and blew a raspberry against her cheek, making her squeal again as she gripped his cheeks. “Mr. Fell has prickles too daddy!”

Crowley chuckled, “its called stubble darling, and I know, he’s a man just like me.”

“Is he going to be our new mommy?”

Aziraphale went red instantly, while Crowley’s head went back and he laughed a deep happy laugh as he hugged her close. “Oh darling, I don’t know, I suppose that’ll depend on if you really want another mommy, or if you want another daddy?”

Her eyes opened wide. “I could have two daddies?”

Crowley nodded, looking over at the fond grin Aziraphale was giving him and winked at the angelic man. Aziraphale blushed again, before he went back to tidying up the mess they’d made. “For right now, he’s just going to help me take care of you two for awhile.”

“Because mom is trying to take us away?” Jake asked. His voice had grown solemn and nervous as he looked over at Aziraphale. “She hates daddy and she won’t let Madi be a girl.”

Aziraphale reached out, running his fingers through the soft red locks of his best friend’s son. “Not everyone realizes how hard it is to keep yourself hidden from the world and that’s unfortunate. I don’t think your mom hates anyone; I just don’t think she understands.”

“Will she ever?” Jake asked meeting Aziraphale’s blue eyes.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley who’d sat down at the table, stolen Aziraphale’s tea, and was watching the two of them talk. Aziraphale considered his words for a moment.

“I don’t know, Jake. Some people do figure those things out, some people never do. But, what’s really important is that your sister always knows she’s safe to be herself around you, you can’t control other people my dear boy. Only control what you do in this world. If you, and Madi and your dad and I put all the love into the world we can, then perhaps we can balance out your mom’s anger.”

“I like you Mr. Fell,” Jake whispered as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck.

Aziraphale instantly returned the hug, pulled the boy into his lap as he took a seat for a moment. His eyes grew a little misty. “Oh my dear boy, I find I’m rather taken by you two as well. As for the question about whether or not I’ll be your new daddy, I believe it’s a bit early for that, you only just met me yesterday.”

“Daddy says he’s known you since he was Jake!” Madi replied.

Crowley chuckled. “Since I was Jake’s age, sweetheart, and I did. Aziraphale and I met in primary school; we shared a juice box on the first day of school.”

“And much more in the years to come,” replied Aziraphale with an affectionate look in his eyes.

“Do you love him?” Jake asked.

“Like mommies and daddies love each other?” His question was directed at Aziraphale, but it was Crowley who answered.

“I’ve loved him from the very first moment I met him, when I didn’t even know what the word meant,” Crowley admitted, looking at the bookshop owner.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and once more he felt his cheeks turn red as he looked down at Jacob.

“Yes, Jacob, I’ve loved your father for a very, very long time now. But, we have been apart for some time; we’ll want to get to know one another again, perhaps after awhile, maybe.”

“Okay,” Jake, like most children, didn’t seem bothered by this or the concept of time as a whole.

Crowley smiled. “Right then, Jake go get your sister washed up for breakfast,” he ordered gently, watching the two children squirm off their respective laps before hurrying down the hallway.

Aziraphale turned around, feeling embarrassed as he went back to his crepes. He felt a familiar pair of arms snake around his waist.

“I know I go too fast for you, angel. I promise, we’ll go at your pace,” Crowley whispered in his ear.

Aziraphale sniffled as he turned around in Crowley’s long lanky arms.

“Oh Anthony, I have missed you so much, so desperately these past eight years.”

Crowley chuckled and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “I’ve missed you too, and why are you crying?”

Aziraphale wiped at his eyes. “Because this is what I always wanted. I wanted you back in my life, I never dreamed I’d be lucky enough to get you back as my boyfriend, lover or spouse or anything. I’d have taken you in whatever way I could.”

Crowley leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s, their eyes both slid closed for a long moment, breathing one another in. Crowley brought his hands up to rest on Aziraphale’s cheeks and he tilted the man’s head back just enough to catch his lips in a kiss.

It felt like putting on an old familiar jacket, the most natural feeling in the world, having Aziraphale’s body pressed up against his, arms wrapped around his narrow waist. Crowley drank it all in, the feelings and emotions coursing through his body, as Aziraphale opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, tongues dancing against one another. It was only a few moments later, both breathing heavily as they once more pressed their foreheads together, that Aziraphale reached his own hand out and stroked Crowley’s cheek.

“I have missed you for a very long time.”

“I’m back now, I think we moved past boyfriends quite some time ago though,” Crowley whispered, causing Aziraphale to half sob half laugh as they shared another long tender kiss. It was kind this time, not hungry, they took their time, getting familiar with one another.

“Ewww,” giggled Madi from the hallway.

The two men separated instantly, both furiously blushing.

“Well you did just ask if I was to be your father,” Aziraphale reasoned, smiling.

“Daddy never kissed mommy like that.”

Madi’s comment sent pain through Aziraphale’s heart as he looked back over at Crowley. The man’s beautiful eyes clouded over slightly. “It was a bad few years,” Crowley whispered, just loud enough for Aziraphale to hear, guilt and self-recrimination oozing off him.

“Oh love, you don’t owe me any explanations,” Aziraphale murmured.

“Right, who’s ready for breakfast!?” He asked pulling away from the man he loved. Both men knew once breakfast was over they’d have to face the music of Crowley’s poor decision making the prior day. But as they sat down like a real family, Aziraphale prepared himself to stand beside his friend no matter what.


	4. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality hits home for Crowley, Aziraphale asks for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay everyone! Lots of story ideas and I'm suppose to be studying for a test for work, which I'm definitely not but that's beside the point. This chapter has some transphobia at the end. Please be aware. We meet Enyo.
> 
> Side note, sorry about some of the paragraphs not indenting, it's right in word but for some reason not here, I've tried to fix it.

**Chapter Four**

They were halfway through breakfast when Crowley’s phone started ringing, a quick glance at its sent all happiness from his face and body in seconds. He looked instantly as deflated as a six month old balloon. “Scuse me,” he murmured as he stood and stepped out of the small flat, making his way down the stairs to the bookshop.

Three sets of eyes watched him as he walked out.

“It’s mom,” explained Jake, putting his fork down. “Come on Madi, we should go get ready.”

Aziraphale watched as two little children walked in the opposite direction of their father, their posture identical. The blonde man heaved a sigh before he stepped out of his own kitchen and made his way towards the stairwell. He could see Crowley seated at the bottom of the stairs.

_“I’m not stupid, Anthony. I know you have them,”_ her voice was barely loud enough over the phone that he could pick up every few words. _“I let you have your fun, bring them back or I’ll call the cops.”_

“You don’t need to do that, I’ll…have them back soon,” his tone beaten.

_“Within the hour, or I’m calling the cops. You lost the case, you can’t just swan off with them whenever you feel like it.”_

Crowley’s head was bowed, his shoulders hunched, “It was supposed to be my first weekend.”

_“Aye and the agreement was you had to prove you had functional living arrangements. I’ve seen the shit hole you live in, Anthony. You don’t have a chance in hell of getting shared custody.”_

“You can’t take my kids away from me, En, they’re mine too, and they need their father.”

Her barked laughter was almost more than Aziraphale could take, he felt his own cheeks turn red for Crowley as he stood there. _“Honey, you wanted the divorce, you made the threat. I just followed through on it before you. Too bad you’re such a shit father. Kidnapping, that’s a pretty serious offense, Tones.”_

Crowley’s voice shook, “Don’t call me that.”

Aziraphale quietly made his way down the stairs; he could feel anxiety rolling off Crowley like waves on the beach.

_“One hour, Anthony, or the cops will be investigating you for kidnapping charges, and not just child abuse.”_

A small growl at the back of his throat echoed into the phone before Crowley shut his phone and flung it across the room. Aziraphale winced, knowing he’d likely just broken the damn thing. “Would you like me to accompany you?” Aziraphale offered.

Crowley didn’t turn, he didn’t reply, he didn’t move his shoulders from the hunched over self-hug he’d created. “No, it’ll just add fuel to her fire,” he grumbled.

Aziraphale reached out, cautiously, not sure how Crowley would react, when it was clear he already felt like a caged animal. He put both his hands on Crowley’s tense shoulders, before giving them one deep reassuring squeeze. “You are not alone in this, my love. Let her add whatever fuel she’d like. We made a formidable team once.”

Crowley let out a sardonic laugh. “No, Enyo makes my father look like child’s play. He was just a bastard. She’s manipulative, and cunning. When she digs her claws in she…” he stopped shaking his head. “I can’t have her ruining your life too.”

Before Aziraphale could say anything further Madi and Jake were making their way down the stairs with their bags. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Fell,” Jake offered quietly.

Aziraphale’s heart hurt to be called that again, ten minutes, that’s all it had taken, ten minutes and one bloody phone call to return these three people back into wisps of their former selves. “You too, my boy. We’ll see one another soon,” he promised giving both of them a quick but firm hug.

Crowley put a hand out for each child’s hand, squeezing each hand gently when they slid into his.

“Crowley, please come back when you’re done,” Aziraphale requested, he would not see his friend suffer alone for a moment longer than necessary.

With a brief nod, Crowley led his two children out of the bookshop and to his car. He sighed as he settled them in the back, before he drove toward the other side of London. Never once realizing he was being watched, being followed.

“Dad, you promised! Please don’t take us back there,” Jake pleaded from the back of the car.

Crowley shook his head, “I don’t have a choice, Jacob. What I did…it was wrong and it’s not the right way to gain custody of you two.”

“Not a boy,” the miserable mumble from his daughter was enough to tear his heart into two.

“It’s temporary, I promise, we’ll figure this out,” he swore, but really could he make such a promise. It certainly didn’t feel like everything was going to be all right.

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale was standing in his kitchen looking at the remnants of their breakfast. He could still hear Madi giggling, still see Jake grinning, and Crowley beaming at both of his children. They’d been in his life such a short period of time, only hours, and already it felt like his heart was empty. Was this what he’d been missing all those years? Something to call his own?

“Aziraphale, you all right?” Newt’s voice from the bottom of the stairs startled him out of his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath and wiping at his tear dampened cheeks; he shouted that he’d be down in a minute before he hurried about getting ready for the day. Once he came down the stairs, he was surprised to find the bookshop wasn’t opened yet, but rather that tea sat in the back, awaiting him.

“You’ve never opened the bookshop after nine in the morning on a Saturday. And you certainly have never had to get dressed while I prepared to open,” Newt explained as he came into the back office.

“I’m sorry, dear boy, I’m a bit out of sorts today,” answered Aziraphale.

Newt studied Crowley for a minute, trying to decide the best words. “Did that man do something to you?”

“What? No, no.” Aziraphale answered quickly. “No, and he’s hardly capable of anything such things. But I am afraid he’s in a position and I’m not sure how I can help him.”

“What sort of position?”

Within minutes Aziraphale had explained everything to Newt, he hadn’t realized how worried he was until it all came tumbling out of his mouth like an Olympic gymnast. His brow was creased with concern, and his gut was constantly clenching in fear that his friend was in grave danger.

Newt, always a good listener as it was, listened carefully and heard not only what Aziraphale was saying, but something things he hadn’t said either. Things like ‘I love this man, Crowley and I’d do anything to protect him’, or ‘this isn’t really my problem but I’m willing to make it my problem because this man is worth the time’. They were things Newt was familiar with, things he’d felt before. They were the same things he felt now about his girlfriend Anathema.

After several minutes of a long winded explanation, Aziraphale reddened in the face, realizing he’d just dumped all his issues on poor Newton. “Dear boy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you all of that.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I think I might be able to help, well, not me really, but my girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Aziraphale asked, unable to keep the surprise in his voice from showing.

Newt chuckled at that. “Don’t act so surprised, she found me really. Anyway, she’s an solicitor. She primarily does work in Family law. I could speak with her if you’d like. It sounds like your friend could use someone in his corner.”

Aziraphale’s face went from worried and surprised to thrilled, his eyes widening with excitement and hope, “Please do call her. He should be returning here, if he does I’d very much like for them to meet.”

Crowley pulled his treasured Bentley in front of the house he’d once owned with his wife. She stood outside, hips tilted to one side, arms crossed over her chest and fury set in her features. Crowley looked back at his two children, “I know you’re upset with me, and I’m sorry, but if I don’t bring you back I could risk never seeing you again, I can’t let that happen.”

But Jacob wouldn’t meet his eye and Madi was still looking down at her toy snake, pulling gently at his plastic eyes. “Right, come on then,” he said tenderly as he shut off the car and went to the back to let them both out of the back.

Jake pushed the door open before Crowley could help and he jumped outside, “Don’t need your help,” he grumbled before he stormed off towards his mother.

Crowley removed Madi from her seat and carried her up to the front of the house, “Here they are, safe and sound.”

She snorted, stepping to the side as Jake pushed past them, “Try something like that again and you’ll be seeing them from inside a prison cell. I know you’re struggling right now, Anthony, you’re lost, but you shouldn’t drag the kids down with you.”

Crowley clenched his jaw, wanting to tell her it wasn’t that he was lost he couldn’t get out from under her wretched grip. “Madi, tell Jake I’ll call,” he told her, before pressing a kiss to her cheek and putting her down on her feet.

“Go inside, Matthew,” Enyo ordered, making eye contact with Crowley as she said the name.

“I’m a GIRL!” screamed Madi before she tore into the house wailing.

Enyo glared at Crowley, “Seriously, we’ve talked about this, he just wants attention. You can’t keep feeding his fantasies.”

“Anything else you want to degrade me for, or are we done?” Crowley snapped.

She laughed, “Oh we’re done,” with that she turned and a moment later the door was slammed in his face.

TBC


	5. Bad Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale begins to notice that Crowley's issues may be far deeper than his ex-wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for heavy drinking and alcohol abuse.

**Chapter Five**

Despite having promised to return as soon as he’d dropped off the kids, it was another four hours before Crowley graced the bookshop again and it was in far poorer shape than he’d left in. Crowley pushed the door open to the bookshop, though it looked more like it had opened because he’d spent three minutes fighting with it and leaning all his weight against it before it finally allowed him entrance.

His steps were uncoordinated, his cheeks pink and the smell wafting off him was akin to a bar floor after the 2 am call. Aziraphale grimaced and shook his head, before he approached his friend he felt his stomach sink at the familiar sight of a black Bentley sitting outside. He’d driven. Crowley was clearly drunk, well beyond the legal limit, and _he’d driven here_.

Rage filled the bookshop owner’s veins, his fists clenching and unclenching in an effort to calm himself down before he strangled the moron before him.

“ANGEL!” Crowley bellowed, throwing his arms out and grinning.

Aziraphale wasn’t stupid, he knew Crowley’s mirth was false and all due to the alcohol currently coursing through his veins. Various patrons around the store glanced up; some giving him concerned looks, while others looked horrified as they stepped further away from the man.

Mentally, Aziraphale counted to ten, letting out a long slow breath before he walked over to his best friend. Instead of speaking, he grabbed the man by his bicep, gripping between the arm and armpit. With all the strength he possessed, which was likely a great deal more than most though, he hauled Crowley towards the back room, before he paused and thought better of it.

The vision of Crowley driving drunk and crashing into a bloody tree filled his mind, and then Aziraphale was dragging the drunken man, stumbling along the way, up the stairs to his flat. Once in the loo, he turned the cold water on in the shower and shoved Crowley in, hard.

Instantly the man let out a shocked scream and started trying to fight Aziraphale offer. Crowley wasn’t having it, “Sober up, take a nap and for god sakes take a bloody shower. This is utterly disgraceful, and you’re lucky I’m not throwing you out on your arse right now!” He growled.

Crowley had the decency to look mildly remorseful, but the underlying look of hurt was what struck Aziraphale first. “Don’t give me that look, you think a man who drinks at barely one in the afternoon enough to drown a fish, and then drives across the city in such a state, should have children in his care! Heavens no you fool. Get yourself together, and come downstairs when you are.”

Still seething, Aziraphale slammed the loo door behind himself as he headed back downstairs to his book shop. Once back downstairs, Aziraphale turned his electric kettle on and then leaned forward, letting his head hang down between his shoulders. His whole body was shaking from the earlier anger, he felt nausea and perhaps more than anything, he felt truly scared. This wasn’t okay, none of this was okay. For as much as Crowley wanted to blame his wife, and perhaps it was her fault, perhaps she was the wretch he said she was, his decision to go and get wasted afterwards proved to some extent she was capable of at least being the more mature parent.

His thoughts went to Anathema, she was coming for dinner with Newt, and the four of them were going to discuss options. How was it going to look if she arrived to find a hung over Crowley? No attorney in their right mind would try to defend a father for sole custody to a potential alcoholic and Aziraphale was starting to think there was a very real possibility that Crowley was an alcoholic as he thought back to their childhood.

Crowley had been actively drinking by the time he was fifteen. Aziraphale could recall him spending most nights at uni in a drunken state, equally, Aziraphale could recall a few times he’d found Crowley drunk when it wasn’t appropriate: during tests, during classes and twice during a funeral. It was more than a little concern. If Crowley hadn’t changed his habits then it was likely that sixteen years’ worth of bad habits had developed into a serious problem.

His mind went to one of their last conversations; it had always played out oddly, Crowley shouting that he’d never think of Aziraphale when they were apart. Had Crowley been drunk? Had Crowley been an alcoholic back then and Aziraphale hadn’t realized it?

The high pitched wail of the electric tea kettle pulled Aziraphale from his thoughts and he heaved a mighty sight before he went about making himself some much needed tea. Cup in hand he sank down at the chair in front of his desk and tried to think what their next course of action was. Briefly, Aziraphale wondered if letting Crowley back into his life was the right choice, he’d missed the man desperately of course. But the potential to uproot Aziraphale’s entire existence was now drunk upstairs in his shower.

Aziraphale spent the next few hours going about his usual day, making sure the shop was properly maintained, taking care of customers and the sort. By five he’d ordered takeaway for four, hoping that Crowley had sobered up some. Newt’s girlfriend, Anathema arrived a quarter after five, she was a beautifully tanned woman with a splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks and her long black hair was pulled up away from her face.

“I’m Anathema, you can call me Ana,” she introduced.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you madam, I’m Aziraphale, give me just a moment and I’ll go get Crowley. Newt our take away should be here any moment.”

Aziraphale headed upstairs, half expecting Crowley to be bent over the toilet retching, or passed out in his bed. Instead, Crowley stood in Aziraphale’s bedroom, in front of his floor length mirror, looking at it intently. He didn’t see Aziraphale right away, obviously or the word “pitiful” likely wouldn’t have slipped from the man’s mouth.

Aziraphale’s heart broke, that was unacceptable. Yes, Crowley had made mistakes, and yes some of his decisions could’ve been better, but he was a kind and loving man with a world of love to give. “Please don’t say that about yourself,” Aziraphale requested stepping into his bedroom.

“Why not, it’s true,” Crowley replied. “You said as much this morning. How can a drunk be expected to be a father.”

“Oh Anthony,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, I was angry because you drank and drove. Darling, you love those children, you can’t put yourself or anyone else in danger. Please, come downstairs we’ve got someone we want you to meet, who may be able to help.”

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale, his childhood friend, the man who’d been by his side through almost everything. “You deserve better,” he whispered.

Aziraphale couldn’t reply, he didn’t agree, that much was certain, but he hurt for his friend, reaching out he gripped Crowley’s hand and led him down stairs. “But I want you, who cares what I do or don’t deserve.”

As they sat eating their Chinese food, Anathema and Crowley spoke about pictures and proof of the abuse, about comments and texts spent. The more Aziraphale heard, the more horrified he was that Crowley had gotten stuck with this woman. By three hours later, Newt and Ana left, and Crowley appeared just a little bit more hopeful than he had the day before.

“Can we go somewhere tomorrow, just the two of us?” Crowley asked looking at Aziraphale that evening.

“Of course. Anywhere you want my love.”

TBC


	6. A Perfect Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley spend a day and then an evening together. NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments!! I've enjoyed writing this story so much. We're getting towards the heartbreaking stuff here very quickly. This is one of the last happy chapters for awhile, so do enjoy it. Sex scene is involved.

Chapter Six

As promised, the following day, Aziraphale and Crowley started with a walk around St. James park, and followed it up by going to the Natural History Museum. The silence was companionable as they looked at each of the exhibits, occasionally Crowley would fill Aziraphale in on something he knew. Or if Aziraphale knew he’d do the same.

They finished off with sushi at a new place Aziraphale had heard about. By the time they arrived back at the bookshop, darkness had settled over the city like a cold blanket, the stars were twinkling, what of them could be seen from the city.

“Thank you, for this,” Crowley whispered, he didn’t look over at Aziraphale, didn’t want to make eye contact. Still ashamed of what he’d done yesterday.

Aziraphale was quiet for a minute, watching the first snowflakes coming down over the city, “I just wish you’d come to me sooner, I suppose. I’m sure that would’ve complicated things though.”

Crowley’s head leaned back against the head rest and he took a slow calming breathe, “She hated that I was bi, constantly assumed I’d cheated. What was I thinking, Zira?”

His friend huffed, “If we had a quid for every time we did something we regretted, we’d be rich, love.” Aziraphale reached out, gripping Crowley’s hand, their fingers interlaced. “Let’s not dwell on what ifs and has beens. It happened, and while the relationship may not have been great, you got two beautiful gifts from it and they adore you.” Aziraphale had always assumed he’d be the one to struggle with relationships, he’d been the shy one when they’d been children the cautious one, who never wanted to risk something bad happening. He’d protected his heart in a different way, he supposed, than Crowley. Whereas Crowley kept his emotions and vulnerability hidden beneath his sunglasses and smart arse remarks, Aziraphale just avoided relationships all together. He always blamed it on his bookshop, or family responsibilities, but in truth the last ten years of his life had been quite lonely really. He didn’t have any real friends; Newt didn’t really count, being nearly ten years young than Aziraphale and twice as socially awkward.

Aziraphale had known when they were teenagers, they both were damaged in one way or another, everyone was, he supposed. But now as he sat there and realized how much life he’d missed out on, Aziraphale felt his heart ache. An ache that felt all consuming, as though something was stuck in his chest and he could feel it trying to work its way out, his eyes burned and he realized, embarrassingly, he felt like crying.

“Angel?” Crowley asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Oh Crowley, I’m rubbish at this, I’ve wasted all my adulthood, hiding away. What have I got to show for it, a gut and nothing but softness,” his voice cracked as he wiped at his eyes. “You’ve lived more in ten years than I have in my life time.”

Crowley’s brows furrowed, before he said anything, “Let’s get inside, then we’ll talk.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection at those words, did Crowley agree? Was he really still able to love someone like Aziraphale? All the same they headed back into the shop and up to Aziraphale’s flat and Crowley grabbed a bottle of wine. He popped it with familiar ease, and poured two large glasses of wine. “Who told you, you were soft?” he finally asked after a couple sips of the red vintage. Well aware of the look Aziraphale was giving him.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “I don’t need anyone to tell me what I can plainly see for myself, I’m overweight Crowley, and I don’t see it changing any time soon, as I quite enjoy eating.”

Crowley studied the man for a long minute, as if trying to decide what to say. Aziraphale only met his eyes for a minute, before he dropped them back down to the ground. “’s it that prick Gabriel you’ve been seeing off and on for the past decade since we broke up.”

Aziraphale didn’t need to confirm it, didn’t need to look up, or say anything, the reddening in his fair skinned face told Crowley all he needed to know, “He’s not wrong,” murmured Aziraphale.

“Yes! Yes he is,” Crowley snapped. “The fact that you’re the one he calls any time he gets horny just proves you’re way out of his league.”

Aziraphale snorted, “How do you figure? He’s so desperate he comes back to the likes of me? The soft fatty.”

“OI!” Crowley snapped, he put down his and Aziraphale’s wine glass, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the back, stood him in front of one of the few mirrors Aziraphale owned. “First off, ditch the jacket, it’s like thirty degrees in here already,” he stripped his friend of the jacket, and then removed his vest, lying both over the desk in the back so they wouldn’t wrinkle. Crowley then removed his own jumper. He stood behind Aziraphale, “You’re thirty-five, first off, no one expects a thirty-five year old to have a six pack, and if they do, they need to lower their damn standards,” snapped Crowley, pleased with himself when he got a small indulgent smile from Aziraphale.

He turned Aziraphale sideways, so that all that could be seen was their waistlines. Putting his hands on Aziraphale’s chest, he slowly drew them down, pulling in the slightly baggy shirt to show only a slight muffin top, but mostly a strong built, healthy body of a grown man. “I don’t see fat, or soft, or any of those wretched things Gabriel claims you are. I see a man who cares for himself, who treats himself, who wants to taste all the world has to offer. I see a man who has tasted food from nearly every continent, from more countries than I could even begin to count,” Crowley pressed a light kiss to the back of Aziraphale’s neck, enjoying the shiver it caused in the beautiful man. “I see a man who’s got love handles, who’s not so bony that it hurts to cuddle with him.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes again at that comment, “If you’re referring to yourself, your lithe and lanky,” he replied.

Crowley shook his head, “No angel, I’m thin and bony and if you asked a doctor, I’m a solid five stones lighter than I ought to be. I’m bordering on malnourished, because my kids eat first, I’m sleep deprived because I worry about them constantly. You’re…” he shook his head, pressing close to the back of Aziraphale and wrapping his arms around the man, “You’re beautiful, and perfect, and you’re my angel. Anyone who tells you differently is either too daft to see the beauty in front of them, or not worth a moment of your time worrying about it. And next time Gabriel comes ‘round for his monthly booty call, as the Americans call it, I’ll be glad to tell him where he can stick it.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Aziraphale whispered as he leaned back against Crowley, enjoying the warmth of his body against his.

“’S not about deserving, you’re amazing and deserve all the love in the world,” he turned Aziraphale slowly, leaning their foreheads together, “Let me show you?” he started to pepper Aziraphale’s face and neck with kisses, occasionally sucking on a spot or two. Crowley ran his hands up and down the man’s chest, slowly unbuttoning Aziraphale’s shirt, until he could get his arms around bare skin beneath the shirt. “Let’s go to bed,” Crowley murmured, well aware of how excited his own body was growing.

They headed upstairs, shutting and locking the bedroom door. Crowley walked Aziraphale back to the edge of the bed and slowly lay them both down, he kissed his way up Aziraphale’s chest, through his chest hair and up his shoulders and neck, one of his knees gently coming between Aziraphale’s legs.

As Crowley drover Aziraphale to distraction, Zira in turn, let his hands deftly remove Crowley’s shirt, so only they’re trousers remained, well aware that both sets of trousers were getting quite tight. Aziraphale focused his hands over Crowley’s narrow shoulders, kissing and touching his gorgeous freckles. Their movements were slow and calm, reverent and filled with love.

Crowley moved back down Aziraphale’s body, flicking his tongue out just above the edge of the man’s trousers, a rakish grin crossing his face as Aziraphale moaned and straight up slightly, his fingers sliding through Crowley’s hair. With all the patience he had, Crowley undid Aziraphale’s trousers kissing, rubbing and nipping against the firmness bulging there. He outlined Aziraphale with his nose, then his tongue as Aziraphale moaned and thrust upwards.

Crowley was feeling plenty desperate himself now, straining against his own trousers, but this was about Aziraphale. He wanted to worship the man, show him what he deserved and how perfect he truly was. Crowley dipped his hands back and behind Aziraphale’s bottom, pushing the pants and trousers all the way down, before he sat back to take all of Aziraphale in, wanton, pupils blown wide with arousal.

Grinning, Crowley moved away from the straining penis and pressed his own bulge against Aziraphale, as he moved back up to kiss the man. It felt like coming home, the familiar touch of his skin, tongues familiarizing themselves with one another again. Crowley ached, desperately impatient, but knew he wanted to take his time, pulling away enough to look into the blue eyes he spoke, “Lube?”

“Side drawer, condoms too,” panted Aziraphale.

Crowley reached over, making sure to still press as much of his body to Aziraphale’s as he could, “We’ll get tested just to be safe, until then condoms,” Crowley assured, before he moved back down, touching every inch of his lover that he could. Lying between Aziraphale’s legs, he generously lubed his fingers, starting with one, working it in and out slowly, then doing a second.

“Anthony, please, need you,” moaned Aziraphale, thrusting himself down on the two fingers.

Crowley grinned, “You sure you’re okay?”

Aziraphale let out a huff, “If you don’t move soon, I’m gonna make you move,” he joked. Crowley chuckled in return, and moved back up, he gave himself two long pumps, getting the condom on, before he started pressing into Aziraphale. The man beneath him moaned in pleasure.

Crowley knew that sound, he was familiar with it, because he’d heard it for years, the velvet heat that surrounded him was so familiar as he pressed all the way in. Both men paused, panting in desperation to keep from coming on the spot. “You’re so beautiful, angel,” Crowley murmured as he pulled out to the tip and then pushed back in, before picking up the pace.

The room filled with soft pants, occasional grunts and skin hitting skin, until Crowley gripped Aziraphale, pumping him once, twice and then Aziraphale came with a might gasp, spilling all over their stomachs. The contractions instantly drew Crowley over the edge himself and soon they were both coming with moans. “I fucking missed you,” moaned Crowley after a few seconds, as he collapsed on his best friend.

Fingers ran through his hair, as an arm wrapped around his shoulders, Crowley’s own arms coming to Aziraphale’s sides as they regained their breath, “I love you so much, Crowley.”

They lay there for a few more minutes, basking in the pleasure of the orgasms, before Aziraphale finally stood up and got a flannel to clean them both up. They put their pants back on, in case the children needed them, and then lay there under the covers, holding one another close.

Aziraphale was sure Crowley had fallen asleep, his breathing deep and even, so it came as a completely surprise when he heard the whisper, “Marry me.”

Aziraphale snorted slightly, “Only if you get me a ring,” he joked.

“I’ve had one,” again the reply shocked him.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he looked down at the man, his body going still. “What?” He said in surprise.

Crowley, fully awake now, propped himself up on his elbow by Aziraphale’s head and smiled, “I said I’ve had one, had it since high school.” he said, he stood, walking into Aziraphale’s closet. Aziraphale watched in confusion as Crowley moved to the very back of the closet, pulling out an old letterman’s jacket.

“I didn’t even know that was still in there!” Aziraphale said in shock, he honestly hadn’t noticed it.

Crowley shrugged, “I knew if I left it at my dad’s he’d destroy it. He reached into a pocket on the inside breast pocket and pulled out a small black box.

“Holy s….smokes you were serious,” Aziraphale murmured as Crowley came over to him and opened the box.

Crowley dropped slowly to one knee and smiled, “Marry me, angel. I should’ve asked you seventeen years ago, forgive me for being too chicken. I’m asking now; spend forever with me, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale wondered if it was too fast, after all Crowley had only just come back, but as he stared down at the beautiful rose cold wedding bands with three diamonds down the center, he realized this was the calmest he’d ever felt. “Yes, yes, of course,” he whispered.

Crowley’s nervous smile turned into a full blown grin as he reached out and grabbed Aziraphale in a hard and passionate kiss. When they pulled apart, they were both wiping tears from one another’s face. “I love you, I’ve loved you every day since we were little,” Crowley whispered, their foreheads together, he slid the wedding band over Aziraphale’s finger, surprised that it fit fairly well.

“It’ll need to be made a bit bigger,” Aziraphale offered.

Crowley nodded, “We can have it resized, I’m sure. We’ll let the kids get used to you, tell them in a few weeks, if that’s okay with you…want you to myself for awhile.”

Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheeks and nodded, “That’s perfect my dear.”

TBC


	7. Poor Decisions and Worse Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Crowley sees Gabriel and puts him in a place, it causes bigger issues for him...trouble is that's exactly what Enyo wants to see so that she can really ruin her ex-husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the delay, I got a new laptop yesterday and so a lot of the evening was spent moving things over and getting it set up. Anyway, now with a smaller, lighter laptop I can write basically everywhere, including on the bus in the mornings and evenings. Here's the newest chapter, bit shorter than usual but part of that is because it's a momentum chapter. I've nearly finished writing this story, for the most part all the remains are a few in between scenes and some movement scenes. This story has been a wonderful adventure, and it's become so much more than I expected. 
> 
> Thanks to all those who have commented as well as those leaving kudos and bookmarking. As much as I like to write for myself I'm writing for readers just as much and am glad to see it well liked. For those of you who are interested in future stories from me, I have two high school AUs on the horizon, one where they're etheral and the other is a human AU. Then I have a broadchurch/Good Omens crossover and a Supernatural/Good Omens crossover. As well as another possible stand alone romance story. 
> 
> There is also the possibility that I may revisit this world, once I've finished posting this story, and write stories where we check in on the family every now and then. But for now, enjoy the next chapter!

Chapter Seven

  
Anathema, Aziraphale and Crowley sat at the small coffee shop next door, “Right, tell me about your marriage, not just asking to be nosy, the more I know and the more proof we have can provide of what she has or hasn’t done, the better chance we have of proving she’s not a capable mother.” 

Crowley, who’d been breaking out in mental hives at the very idea of having to tell a stranger anything about his marriage took a slow breath, inhaling the smell of his tea before he look nodded and looked at her. “Right, well suppose I figured she was just your typical insecure girl at first. Anytime we were out, she pointed out that someone was flirting with me, didn’t matter if it was a man or woman, someone was always flirting with me. I denied it of course, not interested, told her I only had eyes for her, she never believed me. She started insisting she check my mobile, to see if I was lying, checking texts between and my incredibly limited mates I had. She’d start pitting herself against my friends, she didn’t like me going out with them because they didn’t like her. If I didn’t want to spend time with her then she’d divorce me. Any time I brought up the jealous or irrational behavior she insisted I was overreacting. Would threaten to leave me, or worse kill herself…I finally called her on it, bout two years into the marriage, told her if she really wanted to leave there was the door. She told me she was pregnant, I felt horrible. Of course I immediately told her I was sorry.” 

“Was that Jacob?” Anathema asked. 

Crowley shrugged, “No, don’t think so, two weeks later when I started talking about planning for the baby she said she’d had a miscarriage, thought it was weird, felt like she’d have said something to me about that. I’m not sure she was pregnant, but when I asked to talk to her doctor she accused me of abuse and suggesting she was a liar.” 

Anathema made notes and nodded, “When did Jacob come along?” 

“Bout a year and a half later, first year after that was a major struggle, she barely held him, never wanted to feed him. At first I thought maybe she was post partum, even suggested she speak with a counselor. She tore me up one side and down another, telling me how dare I call her a bad mother. I didn’t think that, at least I didn’t want to! No one wants to think that of their spouse, I stepped up my game, tried to take some of the stress off her. Even hired a maid to help around the house.” 

“How’d that go?” 

“She fired the maid three months later when she accused me of cheating with her.” 

Another note, then Anathema glanced up, “Did you?” 

Crowley shook his head no, “Never, my da’ was a habitual cheater, I couldn’t see myself ever doing that to someone I cared about.” 

Aziraphale reached out a hand gripping Crowley’s, giving it a short squeeze, “You’re doing well, Anthony.” 

“Did you ever see her hit Jacob?” 

“No, I did arrive home one time though when he’d been screaming and crying at the bottom of the stairs arm clearly broken and his mother was lying on the couch. He said she kept telling him to stop being such a baby. When I asked later she said she’d slept through it. I don’t know how any one could’ve slept through that though, I heard him screaming as soon as I got out of the car.” 

Aziraphale’s heart broke for the little boy, to know early on that his mother had little to no interest in protecting him. 

“Once again after that, I suggested getting a divorce, it was clear she was miserable. She threatened to call the cops on me for child abuse, tell them I was the one who threw him down the stairs. I was horrified, I hadn’t even been home, which I pointed out. She said she was pregnant again. I got smart, told her to prove it.” 

“Did she?” 

A short uncomfortable nod, “Two days later we were in the doctor’s office and she confirmed the pregnancy. Another boy.” 

“How was she during that pregnancy?” 

“Unstable at best, when she wasn’t screaming or angry at myself or Jake, she was threatening to leave me with them and claim I’d sexually abused her, forced her to have this baby.” 

“Jesus, she’s a piece of work,” Anathema muttered. 

Crowley grimaced, “To say the least. After Matthew was born, Matthew at the time, she really did go through a serious case of post partum depression. I was seriously concerned at this point, I’d reported it to doctors and nurses, there are notes in her file on that, she was taking medications for it. Then I came home one day and Jake had his little sister bundled up hiding under the bed. Said Mummy had tried to kill her.”

“Police report?” 

Crowley nodded, “And medical notes, she was admitted to a care facility for three months.” 

“Why did you finally leave?” 

“She actually cheated, I caught her, came home and found her. I insisted we get a divorce. Same threats as usual, she was going to have me arrested for abuse.” 

“Can you help him?” Aziraphale asked Anathema. 

She nodded, “I’ll have to speak with the police who covered your case when Madi was attacked, as well as access to Jake and Madi’s medical records and I’ll have to at least dig into her medical history, do you know the facility she was checked into?” 

Crowley handed her a piece of paper with all the doctors, nurses and officers he’d spoken with. After the second pregnancy “scare” so to speak I started taking better notes. Look, I know I shouldn’t have stuck around, but those two kids are the only good thing I got out of my marriage to her.” 

Anathema reached out, pressing her hand against Crowley’s free one, by the paper he’d just handed to her. “I absolutely don’t judge you for staying with her. I’ve seen men and women stay in abusive relationships far longer than they should because they were scared. These people get into your heads and make you believe you’re the one in the wrong.” 

“Thank you.” 

“That’s what I’m here for. I’d like to discuss a few more things with you, Madi’s transgender experience thus far, as well as any additional concerns you may have. Also we can discuss next steps. Unless she files a real complaint of some kind with the court and social services, and starts an investigation you have every right to visit those children until all the court proceedings are completely finished. 

Aziraphale bid the pair a kind goodbye, telling them he needed to get back to his shop to ensure Newt wasn’t going crazy by himself, and he left the coffee house. A pair of intense blue eyes watched him from afar, judging, smirking and plotting, she followed the man, unseen, into his bookshop where she slipped into one of the rows of books and made it look like she was interested in reading something. So this was the man her husband had been crazy about for years. She of course knew all about Aziraphale, but putting a face to the name was far more entertaining for her. 

She wasn’t quite finished with her ex-husband yet, he’d threatened to leave her, and he’d been the one to start the process. She’d make sure he rue the day he’d asked for the divorce. Before she could interact with the man who dressed like he was a few decades older than her ex, a tall man in a sharp gray suit walked into the back room. Curiosity got the better of her and she moved in a little closer, a sly smirk on her face. 

Gabriel stepped into the back office and spotted his on again off again boyfriend, “Zira, buddy, how have you been?” The taller man beamed. 

Gabriel was an interesting individual, Aziraphale had known him since his days at Uni, and at first the man had been charming and sweet and kind. He knew what to say and how to say it. But the longer Aziraphale had known him the more he realized Gabriel was a rather shallow bloke. Yet despite nothing that, he hadn’t cut off ties to the man, perhaps it was because Aziraphale already had so few friends. Whatever the reason he couldn’t rationalize it. 

“Gabriel, I’m afraid I simply don’t have time for you today,” Aziraphale told the man shortly from where he now stood organizing a cart of books that needed returning to their shelves. 

Gabriel frowned, “Is that anyway to greet your best friend?” Gabriel requested

Aziraphale clenched his jaw and looked back over at Gabriel. “Gabriel, I really must insist that you leave.” 

Not taking the hint, the suave man stepped in closer, leaving Aziraphale more than a little uncomfortable. Gabriel grabbed his arm, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Before Aziraphale could even answer though he heard a noise that sounded like something between a growl and an angry grunt, before Gabriel was being pulled away from Aziraphale and slammed up against the furthest wall.

Crowley had been returning from his meeting with Anathema, when he headed into the back office and saw Gabriel standing over Aziraphale, an arm gripping the man’s hand. Something in Crowley snapped, he saw red and he reached out and physically hauled Gabriel away from his partner, slamming him into a nearby wall. “You’re not welcome here,” the growl was low and deep as he stood only centimeters from Gabriel’s face, seething quietly. 

“Get your hands off me, before you wrinkle the suit,” returned Gabriel calmly, as he shoved Crowley back enough to separate them, before brushing off his clothes. 

“Get out, Gabriel, get out and do not return, you aren’t welcome here,” Crowley wasn’t sure why he was so angry all of a sudden, perhaps it was the very idea of someone as awful as his wife in a deeply different way, being anywhere near his beautiful angel. As he stood before the man, he felt a hand on his elbow. 

“Crowley, this is my bookshop,” Aziraphale offered cautiously, as a warning, his voice strong but not unkind, as if he was talking someone down from a nightmare or anxiety attack, rather than from beating the shit out of an ex. He didn’t exactly want Gabriel here either, but Crowley had no right to go around saying such things to anyone, much less someone he barely knew. 

Crowley pulled his elbow away, before stepping back in close to Gabriel, “Get. Out.” The inflection said it all, if Gabriel didn’t disappear in the next two seconds, Crowley was going to be arrested for assault. 

Gabriel chuckled and raised his hands in defense. “Tell your dog to stand down, Zira. I’ll talk to you another day, when you’re dopey guard dog isn’t around,” he grinned, giving Crowley a small shove before he glanced back at Aziraphale and made his way out of the bookstore, leaving Crowley still livid and Aziraphale rapidly working his way toward the same feeling. 

“You can’t just go around throwing people against walls and telling them what to do under my roof,” Aziraphale snapped, despite his voice being quiet, his intentions were clear, he was pissed and Crowley had only ever seen that directed at him once. 

“Excuse me, I was defending you!” Crowley snapped, irrationally angry at his lover.   
Aziraphale’s hands went to his hips, “I don’t need anyone to defend me, in case you hadn’t noticed I’m a grown man, Crowley. Fully capable of fighting my own battles.” 

Crowley snorted, “Right, you mean like you hide back here and avoid people trying to buy your books? You hate confrontation.” 

“Crowley--” it was a clear warning, but Crowley certainly didn’t heed it. 

“And if you can defend yourself, what was that arse still using you, when he’s standards are usually way higher!” The second it left his mouth he knew it was a mistake, he saw Aziraphale’s face fall instantly, then harden. 

“Get out.” Aziraphale’s voice was soft but firm, commanding.

“Angel--”

“GET OUT!” Aziraphale shouted this time, causing Crowley to jump, before he nodded and hastily made his way out of the building as quickly as he could.   
Aziraphale waited until he heard the ring of the bell, before he whirled around and slammed his foot against the wall, grunting as pain shot up from his toes. Then again, and again, until he collapsed into a nearby chair, burying his face in his hands. 

  
The onlooker with crystalline blue eyes stood among the shelves face buried in a book, listening to the entire interaction, both involving Gabriel who was now shaking his head as he stepped outside and lit a cigarette, and the two men still in the back. So this was Aziraphale, she should’ve known Crowley would go for someone as soft and proper as the bookshop keeper. Smirking she set her book down, passing by a tall man with a bow tie, “Can I help you find something?” He asked as she sashayed by him. 

“No, thanks honey, I got everything I need,” her voice silky and sly as she made her way out the front doors, leaving Newt behind confused. She stepped over to Gabriel, turning to face the street.

“Sounds to me like you and I have a common enemy,” she said quietly. 

He didn’t glance over at her, instead taking a long inhale on the fag before blowing out of his nose, “That snake is no good, he’s going to destroy Aziraphale, I’m sure of it,” Gabriel finally offered. 

The woman nodded, “I completely agree. Want to help me do something about it?” 

Then he glanced over, taking her gorgeous appearance, busty hips and top in, “And you are?” 

“Enyo Carmine, ex-wife to that dog, and I’d like an opportunity to get back at him for ruining me,” the coy smile, batting of her eyelashes, all worked like a charm on Gabriel who gave her an equally sly grin. 

“What do you have in mind?” 

The woman smiled, “I know for a fact that as upset as he is right, he’s going to go drink his weight in alcohol. We get him to cheat on your pretty boy, and I’m willing to bet pretty boy will never take him back.”

Gabriel couldn’t help his own grin, “What do you need from me?” 

“Just make sure you’re ready in an hour out back of this address,” with that she walked away, which Gabriel watched, the entire way.   
She followed Crowley at a distance; he was stalking, good and properly upset. Like a snake preparing to attack its prey, in this case, the prey was going to be several bottles of good whiskey. She smiled as she slipped into the back of the familiar bar where she spent the better part of most of her evenings. She spotted one of her friends and bartenders in the kitchen and waved him over, whispering something to one of the bartenders she nodded towards Crowley who was already two drinks deep, before handing the bartender a small vile of clear liquid. 

The guy shook his head with a smirk but made his way behind the bar. This wasn’t the first time Enyo had come to him wanting something like this. Normally it was something to help the guys unwind and have a little more fun. So, waiting calmly as the guy finished off his second glass. Hand raised, he took the man’s cup and brought it down to pour the fresh whiskey in it, he poured the small vial into the glass, ensuring no one could see what he was doing, before he put in two more ice cubes and poured in the whiskey. 


	8. In ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: NON-CON/DUB Con in this and the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are why there's a non-con warning, please heed them. That spent a long time debating how I wanted to write these scenes, I wanted it to be read very different than consensual sex and very different than the previous sex scene we had. Hopefully I did that successfully, while the next couple chapters are both fast paced, I feel like it's the right thing because ultimately this is about healing and what comes after abusive relationships.

**Chapter Eight**

Crowley downed another four and a half drinks before he started feeling out of sorts, and horribly guilt for what he’d said to Aziraphale. Maybe Anathema and Aziraphale were right, he needed to give up the alcohol if he was going to parent anyone. 

As he stood, he staggered a little, dizziness overpowering every other thought he had. His muddled brain struggled to think if this was normal to feel so heavy and weighed down, surely not, he’d had more to drink before, right? Despite how hard he was thinking, his sluggish brain couldn’t quite seem to fit all the pieces together. 

“You need me to call you a cab?” someone asked him. He waved them off and managed to get outside where night had settled in around them like a cool blanket. 

“Hey there handsome,” a familiar voice purred from behind him, he whirled around to see his ex-wife standing there in her usual leather tight pants and red leather jacket. The sugar sweet smile that hid her lies and narcissism, ever present on his face. 

“Goway,” he slurred, his head felt fuzzy and his limbs felt unusually heavy. 

She smiled as she moved closer to him, she chuckled, soft and low, “I don’t think so, sweetie.” Her hand reached up to caress his sharp cheekbones. 

Before Crowley could attempt to move her away a wave of dizziness crashed over him and he felt his hold on consciousness fail, eyes closing as his world darkened and he dropped like a heavy sack of potatoes. 

Gabriel, who’d been impatiently waiting in the alleyway like some get away car, and Enyo loaded the unconscious man into her car which was waiting in the alley. She drove back to Crowley’s flat. They got him upstairs slung between the two of them, thankfully not passing anyone in the process. 

She groped around his jeans to pull out his keys and unlocked the front door to the barren little flat he lived in these days. She led the way into the bedroom, where Gabriel ungracefully dropped him on the bed. “That’s all I need from you darling,” she smiled, waving her hand to rid herself of Gabriel. 

Gabriel looked down at Crowley, “He can’t cheat on if he’s unconscious.” 

The smile she gave him felt dangerous and gave him shivers, “Sure he can, bye bye now.” 

Deciding it was best not to stick around for bigger problems he headed out. A part of Gabriel knew what was going to happen, but he just kept reminding himself ‘men can’t get raped by women’ as he walked away. 

She locked the door behind Gabriel and returned to the bedroom where she smiled at the figure on the bed. He was still all lean muscle and thin as a rail. Leaning over his body, pressing her chest to his face, she grabbed her purse which she’d left on the bed and grabbed two pieces of rope. She made quick work of tying both his hands

Crowley surfaced to consciousness two times over the next three hours, each time he was only hazily aware of his surroundings. Wherever he was it looked familiar, but it seemed fuzzy. Everything seemed to be on fire…wait, fire? No, the room wasn’t on fire, but it felt like his body was. It all seemed so muddled. He felt something pressing down on him, but his brain felt so disconnected from everything. 

He hissed in pain, or was it something else? He heard voices, one voice really and it sounded so familiar, “Help,” he tried to moan as he tried to push whoever was standing or sitting on him off. It was more of a slurred cry than an actual word though. The hands fumbled, smacking the woman riding him. Enyo looked down, it wasn’t a terribly hard smack, but it would be red for a bit, and it made her grin. 

“Come on now, love, I know you like it rougher than that,” she grinned before grinding down on him hard. A cry of pleasure and pain filled him and she knew he was close. 

Nausea welled up as Crowley became vaguely aware of what was going on. “Stop,” he tried again, he attempted to move his arms and legs, to get rid of the weight on top of him, but all he heard was mocking laughter. He struck out once more, unsure what he hit, but he was guessing it was little more than skin, all he heard was laughter. 

He felt the hot, tight feeling of velvet around him contract and suddenly he felt his own world explode, he cried out, in agony or pleasure he wasn’t sure. That was the last thing he was aware of as he slid back into darkness. 

The next time Crowley woke, his head felt twice a fuzzy if that was at all possible, it felt like he’d run a marathon, he was sweat soaked and it felt like his head was going to explode. That familiar disconnected laughter echoed through his head again. He didn’t feel well, something was wrong, “Help,” he asked again, this time his seemed capable of moving, and he pushed them out in front of him. More laughter echoed around him. Then, darkness once more. 

Enyo rode him three more times, until he was wrung out and unlikely to even produce anything. When finished she got off of him and looked down at herself, his flailing and fighting, though uncoordinated had left a couple spots that were likely to bruise. With a smirk, grabbed her shirt she’d been wearing earlier and ripped it at the shoulder, as if she’d been attacked. 

She didn’t bother putting her knickers back on either, slid into her jeans, and then went into the bathroom. She drew eyeliner on her face and then proceeded to wipe at it, until it looked sufficiently like she had been crying. Messed up her hair, slapped her cheeks a number of times, and then practiced looking completely wrecked and upset in the mirror. 

When she left nearly an hour after her initial arrival, she left behind her ex, what she didn’t realize, was she was leaving him behind in a puddle of his own vomit. He was overdosing and trying to throw up the alcohol he’d had earlier, but because he was on his back, and unmoving, he aspirated. Not enough to die, but enough. 

Enyo arrived at the police station, wrapping her arms around her waist she headed inside, acting a little limp, she went up to the front desk, “I….I want to report a rape,” she cried, covering her mouth. 

In an instant she had police officers and detectives talking kindly to her, bustling her about to get her to a clinic to collect evidence. 

“Can you tell us what happened ma’am?” A handsome detective with silver hair and beautiful brown eyes asked as he sat with her in the hospital room a little while later. 

“My...my ex-husband and I...I was out drinking with a friend of mine, he was already there and drinking heavily. He must’ve seen me, I don’t know I think he may have spiked my drink or something because one minute I was fine and the next I got really dizzy and then I barely remember anything. When I came to, he was on top of me,” she wept into her hands. 

Another woman, with darker skin sat on her other side, rubbing her back, “It’s all right, take your time,” Sally soothed looking at her boss and partner. 

“Ma’am, can you give us your ex-husbands name, we’ll go pick him up once we’ve finished taking your statement.” 

She nodded, “His name is Anthony...Anthony Crowley,” she rattled off his address, explaining that she’d given their kids to her sister for the night, and that this was her first date since she’d left him. 

Across the town in a small bookshop, Aziraphale kept packing back and forth across the floor as he thought over what had been said earlier. He shouldn’t have yelled at Crowley the way he had. He knew the man was emotionally vulnerable now. Then again, it wasn’t fair for Crowley to assume Aziraphale would never be upset with him, right? “Oh, I should go talk to him, hopefully he’s at his flat,” he muttered as he pulled out his mobile and began flipping through the messages. He’d texted the flat address to Aziraphale shortly after dropping Madi and Jake off when they’d first met. 

Once he had the address, he determined it wasn’t terribly far away, he could walk though it would take at least half an hour. Perhaps in that half hour he could figure what on earth he was going to say to his lover to assuage the guilt they were likely both feeling. 

“Oh dear, I do hope I haven’t messed up everything,” he mumbled as he wrung his hands together. Heading out, he locked his bookshop and headed out. 

Something in Aziraphale wasn’t sitting well with him, he felt worry growing in the pit of his stomach. He never should’ve kicked Crowley out. Heart racing, for some reason a man who never ran, found himself racing towards Crowley’s flat. 

What he saw as he arrived at the flat was something that would stick with him. Forever. 

TBC


	9. It all comes Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wakes up, and we begin to see the ramifications of Enyo's actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Non-con is over, but we aren't done discussing it. Thanks for all the great reviews! I'm sorry for those of you who's hearts I've been breaking, I assure you 100% the ending will be worth it, and if you noticed it's a part of a series now, we may see this little family again.

When Crowley surfaced last he was vaguely aware of how heavy his chest felt, he was lying on his side, though he didn’t remember rolling over and it felt like a weight had been pressed in and down on his chest. He struggled to draw in air, looking around through hazy vision he realized he was at least at his own flat. He frantically reached his hand out for his mobile. 

But his coordination wasn’t strong and he felt it slam into the edge of his night table, he cried out in pain, his stomach rolled and a second later he was stumbling into the loo as quickly as he could where he threw up the entire night’s worth of alcohol in his system. It was complete agony, the movement of his body rebelling making it feel like an ice pick was being driven into his skull. His whole body shook, tears streaming down his cheeks. He groaned as he laid his head down on the cool tile floor, letting it seep into his skin. 

As he lay there he struggled to remember the hours before, but it was all rather foggy, he vaguely recalled arguing with Aziraphale, but little else. He lay on his back across the tile, letting his arm come over his face, a flash of something on his wrist made him pause, he had to blink a few times to clear away the fuzziness before he realized he was looking at bruises or what looked like abrasions from twine or rope. “What on earth?” he mumbled. 

A knock on his door derailed his thought process and he slowly struggled to stand, his legs threatened to collapse from under him and he still felt nauseated and dizzy. He made the slow and tortuous trek toward the door, unsure why it felt like too much movement would send his heart rate skyrocketing and his mind back into the darkness. Another knock, more forceful this time made his head pulse in rhythm. “All right, hold on a minute, Aziraphale, jesu---” he wasn’t aware of how slurred his speech still sounded as he opened the door his eyes went wide as he was faced with two uniformed police officers. 

“Can I help you?” the grimace the two officers gave him told him they barely understood what he’d tried to say.

“Are you Anthony Crowley?” 

He thought he nodded, but things were getting jumbled again, the dizziness was beginning to overwhelm him. 

“Anthony Crowley, you’re under arrest for the assault and possible rape of Enyo Carmine,” one of the coppers stepped forward and turning Crowley around to snap the cuffs on his wrist. 

“What!? Wait what the bloody hell are you talking about!?” he squawked as they grabbed him and pulled him out of his building. The movement was causing his whole world to tilt on its axis every few seconds. As they made their way to the car he was horrified to see Aziraphale in making his way towards the front of his building. “Aziraphale! Help me!” he tried shouting, but once more it came out as more of a mumble, his legs shook and a moment later he was being kept up by the two cops holding him. 

Aziraphale, for his part looked confused and worried, “I’m sorry, what’s going on?” Aziraphale questioned the officers. Seeing Crowley being hauled out of his flat in such a state was more than a bit unsettling. the longer he looked at Crowley the more Aziraphale realized the man before him was NOT okay. His hair was a disarray, he wasn't wearing a shirt, his pants were just barely on, and the way he was staggering between the two officers told it’s own tale of something being seriously wrong. 

Aziraphale noticed the slight blue gray tinge around Crowley’s lips, and the way he seemed to be struggling to pull air into his lungs. Before Aziraphale could ask any further questions, he watched Crowley’s eyes roll back and his entire body go limp as if the strings of a marionette had just been cut.

Before either of the officers could reply the man in their arms lost all consciousness, and began to seize. Both officers, completely horrified set him down on the ground, staying with him. Meanwhile Aziraphale pillowed Crowley’s head, “Get an ambulance!” one of the officers instructed the younger woman. 

“Crowley, Anthony, darling, I’m right here, I’m here,” Aziraphale whispered, holding his head still. He watched in horror as Crowley began to vomit and choke, the remaining cop and Aziraphale turned him on his side, as the body with them went lax. 

“He’s not breathing,” the silver haired DI said feeling for the rise and fall of the man’s chest. He quickly removed the handcuffs. He paused at the sight of what looked suspiciously like rope burns, before he turned his attention to starting CPR. 

An ambulance pulled up a few moments later and it was such a blur that Aziraphale was pushed aside so they could start working on Crowley. As he stepped back and watched, he felt like his entire world was collapsing in on him. He hadn’t heard from Crowley for most of the night and after about two hours of attempting to sleep, he’d gotten up to see what Crowley was doing. 

“Why’s he got rope burns?” one of the medic’s asked while they forcing air into his lungs. 

The two officers exchanged looks of confusion and concern. It seemed to all be a whirlwind as Crowley was loaded onto the gurney and whisked away to the hospital. 

Aziraphale had called both Newt and Anathema when he arrived at the hospital, his hands shook, and it felt like he couldn’t get enough air. It wasn’t until the female copper who’d been one of the one’s at the scene sat him down and started whispering for him to match her breathing, that he realized he was hyperventilating. 

“Aziraphale, what’s going on?” Anathema asked as she and Newt hurried into the waiting room fifteen minutes later, by which time Aziraphale had settled some and now held a cup of tea in his hands. 

“Mr. Fell informs me that you’re Mr. Crowley’s attorney?” The woman, DI Donovan asked at this point, sparing Aziraphale from having to explain anything further. 

“Yes, what’s happened?” 

The older copper, DI Lestrade, stepped forward, shaking Anathema’s hand. He’d disappeared as soon as they arrived back with the paramedics and had explained their concerns upon seeing the rope burns and what looked like an overdose of some kind. The nurses and doctors, while dealing with an emergency were also going to do their best to treat this like a potential assault case. 

“Name’s detective Lestrade, this is my partner Donovan, we arrived at Mr. Crowley’s flat this morning on suspicious that he’d assaulted and potentially raped his wife.” 

“WHAT!?” Anathema and Aziraphale both gawked in surprise. 

Aziraphale shook his head, feeling panic beginning to set in, “No, he wouldn’t do that. Not after everything she’s done to him.” 

DI Lestrade nodded, “Unfortunately there’s evidence indicating him in the crime.” 

“What do you mean evidence?!” Anathema demanded. 

This time Donovan spoke up, “Ms. Carmine came in and reported it herself, we took pictures, they’re running the DNA now, but she can identify him and everything. According to her he got completely wasted and ran into him on the way out of the bar while out on a date. She offered to drive him home, when they got upstairs he turned on her, started making demands.” 

“What no, he’s not…he’s not violent,” he finished lamely as he thought about Crowley yesterday with Gabriel. “And if he attacked her how come he has rope burns?” 

Lestrade nodded, “I tend to agree, between that and a potential overdose, it’s unlikely that her side of the story is entirely accurate. We’re going to do some follow up investigating. In the meanwhile, we’ll bring his ex in for questioning, and I’ll leave Sal here as a guard to you and Mr. Crowley.” 

“They have children,” Aziraphale whispered. 

Lestrade’s eyebrows shot up, “I know she mentioned leaving them with her sister, how many and how old?” he asked, pulling out his pocketbook.

“Two, Madi and Jake, their three and six. There’s been suggestions that she’s abused them in the past. If she did this… If something happens to their father, they’ll be devastated.” 

Lestrade nodded, pursing his lips he replied, “Right, I’ll pick them up and bring them back here once I’ve had the mother brought in for questioning. Are you a relative?” 

Aziraphale gave a numb nod, “Yeah, god-father and Crowley’s fiance, we weren’t going to tell anyone yet.” 

“Don’t worry Mr. Fell, we’ll sort this all out. Just try and focus on your fiance and those two kids.”

Lestrade stepped away from the small group. Aziraphale sank down into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, head in his hands. “This is my fault, I was so upset with him…” 

“No!” Anathema stated, “This is absolutely not your fault. Crowley chose to go drink, whatever his actions were after that, they were his decision and his ex-wife’s. You aren’t responsible for their actions. Come on, I’m sure they’ll let us talk to him before his official interview.” 

They sat in the hospital waiting room for what felt like hours, Aziraphale had called his sister during that time, letting her know Crowley was very sick and little else. Lestrade returned nearly an hour and a half later, looking more exhausted than he had when he’d left. In tow two small children, one he was carrying, and the other holding his hand. Behind them a woman with blonde hair smartly dressed approached them. 

As soon as Jake spotted Aziraphale, he dropped the DI’s hand and ran to the man he’d only met a few days earlier. Aziraphale didn’t hesitate, he lifted the boy under his arms, letting the child wrap his arms around his neck and legs about his waist. Despite that at six Jake was getting a bit too tall and heavy for this, Aziraphale hugged the boy close for a long minute, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 

“It’s all right lad, I’m here now,” he murmured softly. 

Lestrade finally stopped, he put the little girl on her feet and a second later she was clinging to Aziraphale’s trouser leg, burying her face in it. In her arms, she clutched her little stuffed snake. 

Setting Jake down on his feet, Aziraphale moved back to a chair, and pulled both children into his arms. He wasn’t sure he understood how on earth he could love two beings as much after only just meeting them. But as he clutched the two babies close, he realized it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were theirs. “I’m here now, you’re safe,” he offered again as he pressed a kiss to both their heads this time. 

“Right, this is Madame Tracey, I had her called on the way over to the house, she’s with Child Services. She’s going to give you a run down of what the sister said. Sounds like your hunch about child abuse was accurate, both of them have bruises, superficial, but still. We’ve taken pictures and a statement from the sister. The sister also wanted me to tell you that she’s glad Crowley found you and to please let her know if you ever need sitters, because she’ll be damned if she ever lets Enyo see them again.” 

Aziraphale managed a small smile at that, before taking stock of Madam Tracey who was an older woman, old enough to probably be retired these days. She had shoulder length blonde hair and a kind smile.

“Hello Mr. Fell,” she greeted Newt and Anathema as well, shaking their hands before turning back to Aziraphale. “Given the situation between the two parents, it’s been determined that the children will remain in your care until more information is obtained. However, if you and Ms. Device have a few moments, DI Lestrade and I would like to speak privately with you.”

“Sure, Newt, could you watch these two?” 

“Course mate,” replied Newt smiling at the two kids, “You two hungry?” They both gave him hesitant nods and with a little encouragement from DS Donovan they released Aziraphale and slid off his lap. 

Aziraphale, Anathema, Lestrade and Tracey found a small private room off to the side and the four took a seat, “What’s going on?” Aziraphale questioned. 

“It seems there was another person involved last night, and he wasn’t quite as tight lipped as Mr. Crowley’s ex. Man by the name of Gabriel Cooper?” 

Aziraphale paled considerably at that, Anathema gripped his hand without even realizing it was necessary. She could see it in his face. “What…do you mean involved?” 

“Apparently there was some sort of altercation at the bookstore, after which Enyo approached him. Suggested she meet him at a specific bar within an hour. We’ve confirmed with the bartender, who’s also now in custody, that he spiked one of Crowley’s drinks with a vial of liquid. Enyo then ran into Crowley just outside the bar and with Gabriel’s help, got him back to the flat. Gabriel helped…get everything set up. He said he wasn’t aware it was non-consensual.” 

“And you believe him?” Anathema asked. 

Lestrade snorted, “Christ no, that guys greasier than an oil slick.” 

That comment made Azirapahle reddened slightly as he looked down at his hands in shame, how could he have ever been involved with a bloke like Gabriel. 

Lestrade spoke again, “Between his side of events and Enyo’s we have a reasonable picture about who the actual victim was here. We will still need to talk to Mr. Crowley when he’s up to it, confirm that. But between two people saying he was likely drugged, it’s unlikely he was capable of moving, much less assaulting and having sex someone against their will.” 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale choked, his throat parched at the thought of what had happened. 

“We’ll let you get back to your family, please contact us as soon as Mr. Crowley is awake.” 

Aziraphale nodded, and the officer and Tracey stood and left. Aziraphale let out a weak sob as he buried his face in his hands for a minute. 

“We’ll get through this,” Anathema offered quietly, rubbing Aziraphale’s back. 

It was all Aziraphale could do not to turn and weep in her arms at everything. How had this all gone so wrong. This felt like his fault, but he knew Anathema wouldn’t let him believe that. Despite only knowing her twenty-four hours, he rather already cherished their friendship. 

TBC


	10. Not Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double the update, Double the fun! That's right I'm posting two chapters today. Happy August. Chapter 10 is pretty short, it's a movement chapter. Chapter 11 is quite possibly one of my favorite scenes in this story, and I think most of you have had your fill of heartbreak so I decided to give you a reprieve. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor, I did consider going into the field of medicine and have dedicated a large chunk of my life to making sure I understand medical information. I researched this and hopefully got everything right or close to.

**Chapter Ten**

Anathema, Newt and Aziraphale all sat quietly in the waiting room. Aziraphale felt like each tick of the clock was another second off of Crowley’s life. He didn’t know much about drugs and alcohol, but he knew they didn’t mix well together and it was incredibly unlikely Crowley would come out of this completely fine. He’d googled possibilities while sitting there, anything could happen, pneumonia was most likely, coma or death. 

“Family of Crowley?” 

Aziraphale’s head snapped up and he met the petite nurse’s eyes as he rose to his feet, Jake, who had immediately taken up residence in Aziraphale’s arms upon his return, in his arms. “How is he, I’m sorry, he’s my fiance.” He quickly explained, fidgeting at the idea that she was about to give him terrible news. He was incredibly grateful when he felt Anathema’s hands on his arm. Little Madi, who’d been quite taken with the pretty woman, was now cuddled in her arms and until the nurse had arrived, was having her hair braided.

“I’m just a nurse, I’m here to take you back, the doctor will speak to you once you’re back there,” she explained. “Only you at this time, I’m sorry.” 

His head bobbed on its own accord and he put Jake down in his chair, pausing for a moment, before he cupped the boy’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon,” he offered, pressing a kiss to the boy’s head. He then stood and pressed a kiss to Madi’s cheek as well before turning back to the nurse. They walked down the sterile halls towards a hospital room, until they came to a stop outside a room. 

Looking inside, instantly Aziraphale felt ill. Crowley lay on the bed, grayish white, barely darker than the sheets that covered him. A tube ran out of his mouth connected to a breathing apparatus, wires connected in every direction it seemed. 

“Oh god,” Aziraphale whispered, his hand covered his mouth as he tried to stop the shaking. He felt like he’d cried an ocean already and yet somehow once more his eyes filled with tears. 

“You’re Anthony’s family?” A doctor asked, she was a shorter dark skinned woman, with kind brown eyes. She looked far too young to be a doctor, but Aziraphale didn’t have it in him to care. “I’m Dr. Jones. Why don’t we step into the room,” she encouraged. 

Stepping inside made it worse, because now he could hear the machine breathing life into his partner, it felt real now. Dr. Jones, to his surprise, gave his arm a squeeze, “You can touch him, it’s okay,” She encouraged. Aziraphale gave ab unsure nod, but moved slowly closer to the bed. Somehow of his own willpower he reached out and grabbed one of Crowley’s hands. He sank into the chair, bringing the back of Crowley’s hand to his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered brokenly. 

Dr. Jones gave him a few moments to gather himself again before she spoke, now standing on the other side of Crowley so Aziraphale could see both of them. “Mr. Crowley came in presenting symptoms of an overdose, we ran a blood test, and chest x-rays and ECG to determine the extent of the damage done by the seizure and loss of consciousness. It was then that we were able to determine that at some point in the past four hours, Crowley was slipped a rather large dose of methadone. We’re treating him to ensure he doesn’t get addicted, but unfortunately between that, the alcohol in his blood system and what looked like a mildly depressed immune system, he tanked after he arrived. We were able to bring him back, thankfully, he’s in a medically induced coma for the time being, while we assess the damage to his lungs done when he aspirated, which is when he stopped breathing.” 

“Will he wake up?” Aziraphale asked. 

Dr. Jones nodded, “It’s medically induced, meaning we’re just letting his body heal, we’ll have further test results done this afternoon, and as long as he doesn’t have much fluid buildup in his lungs, we’ll bring him out of the coma tonight or tomorrow. I have a fairly positive prognosis for him, I think he was surrounded by people quickly enough that we avoided major complications. The biggest issue we face now is pneumonia, which can of course be a major problem, but we’re prepared for that and will begin treatment and monitor him for it over the next forty-eight hours. Please let myself or the nurses know if you have any concerns or questions.” 

Aziraphale finally tore his eyes away from his partner, “He has children…they’ll want to see him.” 

“For the sake of his immune system I’d encourage we wait at least forty-eight hours. I don’t expect him to take a turn for the worse in that time, if he’s stable in two days, I’m comfortable letting them come visit. I don’t want to risk him getting sick though when his immune system is already weak.” 

Aziraphale nodded, pressing his lips together as he looked back at Crowley. His beautiful Crowley, who was never still, who was rarely quiet unless he was brooding and it made Aziraphale’s world feel like it was crashing down seeing him this still and quiet. 

“May I stay with him?” 

The doctor gave him a nod, “but don’t forget, he’ll need you healthy too.”

TBC


	11. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale deals with the fallout of the children learning their father is ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter, I wrote and rewrote it a few times, as well as a couple others coming up. I wanted everyone to fall for the kids and Aziraphale as much as I have.

**Chapter Eleven**

When Aziraphale had stepped into the room he was struck, like a fist to the gut, at how unusual it was to see Crowley being still. Now, sitting beside him, since the doctor had stepped out, it felt downright spooky. Crowley was a man constantly in motion, fidgeting, talking, and joking. If Aziraphale’s world was calm and collected, Crowley was the chaos that was occasionally needed to mix things up. A small smile flickered across Aziraphale’s face as he remembered a similar comment made years earlier. 

_ “You’re like my sun.”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ The sixteen year old nodded and grinned at Aziraphale, “Think ‘bout it, you’re relatively still, always staying in place, an’ here I am orbiting around you at a million miles a minute. You’re my sun, what controls my gravity an’ all that.”  _

_ Aziraphale blushed and beamed at his partner, “Anthony, that’s down right romantic.”  _

_ “Shut up.”  _

But perhaps Crowley had been right, he was the thing that kept Crowley thriving and functional. Without the sun, the Earth would freeze and die, without Aziraphale, well they’d already seen what happened when he wasn’t in Crowley’s life. 

Reaching out, Aziraphale let his hand rest on Crowley’s forehead. It was warm, a mild fever something Aziraphale was sure the doctors and nurses knew. “I am so sorry I snapped at you, my dear.” 

He knew Crowley wasn’t going to respond of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to stand there hoping for an answer all the same. Anything rather than the still, corpse like figure on the bed with machines pumping air into his lungs. 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how he was meant to survive in a world again without Crowley. He’d spent eight years thinking of the man, worrying and wondering. Was he okay, was he happy, did he have friends? “I let you down,” Aziraphale whispered. “I went to Uni and left you behind, we drifted. I suppose that’s life though, isn’t? Friends grow up and grow apart, then together again if their lucky.” 

Pulling a chair closer, he sank back into it, gripping Crowley’s still hand, “I love you, you know,” he whispered, heart breaking as he pressed a kiss to the back of Crowley’s hand. He knew there were tears dripping down his face. “I love you so very much, my darling. More than words could ever express.” He smiled, tracing the veins on Crowley’s tan hands, “We’re ineffable I suppose.” 

Aziraphale sat there and wondered how he was going to manage to care for two children and be here for Crowley. He wanted to stay by the man day and night, but there were two small children who needed him and as much as it pained him to admit, they’d come second long enough now. They had to come first now, that was what Crowley would want.

Standing Aziraphale leaned back over the top of the bed and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead, “I have to leave you my love. I don’t want to, but I know you’d want Jacob and Madi to come first.” 

Then he straightened, tugged at his vest and jacket and made his way out of the hospital room, trying not to let the tears burning his eyes fall. He took a few deep breaths to regain all control before he stepped back into the waiting room where Jake and Madi would see him.  _ They come first  _ became his mantra. Holding his head hide and wiping once more at his cheeks, he smiled as he looked at the two kids.

“Is dad okay?” Jake asked, the boy had a look in his eyes that Aziraphale would’ve described as guilt if it had been Crowley. 

“He will be, darling. Come, we should get you two home, it’s been a rather busy morning.” 

Arriving back at the bookshop, Aziraphale stepped out of Newt’s car, thanking he and Anathema for a ride. He gripped Jake and Madi’s hands in his as he moved to the front door. Jake allowed his hand to drop by his side, as the owner pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked it. Pushing the door open he looked down at the two, “Right then...in you go.” His voice sounded gravely to his ears, like he was struggling to maintain composure. Perhaps on some level he was. If it weren’t for Jake and Madi, Aziraphale imagined he’d be a sobbing mess at the moment.

Walking into his shop after everything that had happened over the last twelve hours, Aziraphale was amazed at how cold and unwelcoming it felt for once. Normally, his bookshop was a place where he came for salvation and respite from the rest of the world. Today, it just seemed...empty. 

Looking down at the two sets of beautiful eyes he forced himself to smile, “What would you two like to do then?” he asked. 

Jake didn’t reply and Madi just shrugged. Aziraphale realized if he was going to be caring for these two for the foreseeable future he needed to be better prepared. He only had two bedrooms and there was only one bed, no toys to speak of. “Good lord, I’m afraid I’m rather ill equipped for this sort of thing.” 

“I’m tired,” Madi whined. 

Jake nodded, “Me too.” 

“Right, why don’t we all take a little nap, then when we wake up maybe we’ll having a bite to eat then.” 

He tucked the two children into the bed upstairs in the room they’d shared a few nights earlier and he went down to his own bedroom. As he looked at the bed where he’d shared a passionate night with Crowley, Aziraphale’s heart hammered in his chest. 

He stepped forward, his feet dragging on the floor as though they each suddenly weighed a ton. He could smell him, Aziraphale realized. Without thinking about his clothes or shoes, he slowly laid down on his side and pressed his face into Crowley’s pillow. Letting the scent of the man fill his every sense. Eucalyptus, a hint of cinnamon, and leather from the silly car of his. 

Aziraphale didn’t even realize he’d been crying until a sob choked up from the center of his chest as he buried his face in the pillow. His face contorting as he struggled to remain quiet while still crying for the horror his lover had been through, for the things they would both have to go through now. 

A scream shattered the peacefulness, followed by a loud thump and in an instant Aziraphale, who must’ve fallen asleep while crying, jerked awake and was throwing off his sleepy haze and rushing out of the room to the extra room. Jake was on the floor, rubbing the side of his head while Madi sat in the middle of the bed wailing. 

Aziraphale swept his...Madi up into his arms, instantly she hugged him around the neck, nearly choking him as she wept into his shoulder. “Shh, you’re all right, I’m here, love,” he murmured as Madi wailed in his ear, uncaring about how painful the noise was at such a close proximity, supporting her with one arm under her bum and legs, the other gently rubbed her back in slow circles. He opened the window, leaning against the ledge and started humming. Night had started to fall, they’d clearly slept later than he’d intended, though Aziraphale figured it was probably for the best. 

As a whole, Aziraphale had never been much of a singer, oh he loved music as much as Crowley, he could listen to Queen, David Bowie and the Killers all day and night, though he’d never openly admit that to Crowley. He loved classical too. But as a bigger picture he didn’t really sing, and on the rare occasion that he did, it was because everyone knew you had to sing when Bohemian Rhapsody came on. Still, on the off chance Madi could be soothed by his slightly less than good singing voice, he began to sing softly, letting the vibrations in his chest and throat soothe her. Her sweat dampened forehead pressing into his neck furrowed, before the crying slowed. 

He continued to rub her back and hum for a few more minutes, arms growing tired, but all that mattered was the tiny figure in his arms. “Don’t leave,” the little whimper caught him by surprise after several minutes. 

Aziraphale sighed; internally he cursed Enyo for putting such thoughts and fears into a toddler’s mind. Toddlers weren’t meant to worry about being abandoned, they were meant to cry because they didn’t understand their emotions, they were meant to giggle at butterflies and marvel at the world around them as they lapped up all they could learn. 

It was a conundrum every parent had to play though, promising to never leave a child was a futile effort, because in the end all parents died, and in most cases long before their children. He gave her body a small squeeze, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head, “I promise you, peanut, that I will never, ever leave you by choice.” Aziraphale swore, using Crowley’s nickname for her. He didn’t tell her that there would be days when she had to face things on her own, didn’t warn her he wouldn’t be able to fix all her hurts and fears, a toddler couldn’t comprehend those just yet. The day would come when she’d grow up and start to realize independence came at a price. But for now he was content just to hold her, rock her and soothe her frightened little soul. 

Once he was certain she’d fallen back asleep, he laid her down on the bed, tucking the blankets under her chin. As he straightened, he realized Jacob was missing. He stepped into the hallway and noticed the light on in the loo. Moving towards the room, he could see Jake was struggling to see himself in the mirror over the sink. 

“Here,” he said, so as not to startle the child as he lifted him under his arms and stood him up on the toilet lid, to get a better look at his head. He felt Jake’s head, there was a small goose bump, but otherwise he seemed fine. “You want some ice to put on it?” 

Jake shook his head, “its fine.” 

The bookshop owner sighed, gripping the boy’s chin he tilted Jake’s head back, looking Jacob in the eye, “You know I grew up with your dad, you know I see the same looks of stubbornness he gave me when we were kids now in you.” 

Jake looked down, a small sniffle came out, followed by another, and soon Aziraphale watched the boy’s shoulders start to shake. The boy could silently cry, and it made Aziraphale hurt in ways he couldn’t even describe. Children who cried silently did so to hide it out of fear, whether it was fear of being a burden, or fear of abuse, it was all fear. 

Stepping closer, Aziraphale gently lifted the boy’s chin again, “Oh my dear boy,” he whispered as he watched the tears trailing down Jake’s cheeks. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe a tear away.

It was like looking into the past, a six year old boy crying because daddy had gotten drunk again and beat mummy, because they’d screamed at one another all night. He lifted Jake under his arms, not surprised when the long legs and arms wrapped around his waist and neck. Silent sobs turned into giant heaving cries of despair as the boy buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

Aziraphale sank down onto the toilet lid, and just cradled the boy, his own heart breaking at the idea that someone so young could be so brokenhearted. Crowley surviving, and coming home would do everyone well, but ultimately the damage done to these two children would take years to reverse and that hurt far worse than the idea of Crowley being cared for without Azirapahle. He rocked the boy back and forth for what felt like hours, until Jake started calming down. “Want to talk about it?” 

“They’re gonna take us from da’ aren’t they?” Jake whispered, his voice hoarse from crying, he wiped at his face and sniffled. 

Aziraphale handed him some toilet paper to wipe and blow his nose with, “I don’t know, darling. I hope not, the detectives seemed intent on getting to the bottom of whatever this is. So perhaps not, but here’s what I do know,” he turned the boy sideways, wrapping his arms around the lanky child, and letting his head rest atop Jake’s head, being cautious of the bump. “I know that there are very few things in this world we can truly control. Ourselves, and our actions are among them. We cannot control what other people do or don’t do, nor can we control how others respond to our actions. All you can ever do is accept what we have control over, and pray that God gives you the strength to deal with the rest, my dear boy.” 

“What if I’m not strong enough?” Jake asked, playing with the soggy tissue. 

Aziraphale hummed, before he pulled back and pressed a kiss to the redhead, “I’ve learned we are capable of handling much more than we give ourselves credit.” 

“I have to be strong for Madi, but sometimes I’m so angry about everything,” he whispered, his voice taking on a harsh, frustrated tone. 

A tone Aziraphale was also familiar with, “Jacob, you are six, sweetheart. You don’t have to be strong for anyone, ever. That’s not your job.” 

“But--”

Aziraphale shook his head, making sure to look in Jacob’s eyes, “No, listen to me, dear boy. At six, the only thing you should be doing is playing, running outside, reading books and learning about the world. Learning to deal with the emotions that will come and go like tidal waves. You can’t take the weight of the world on those little shoulders. Let your dad and me do that. As for the anger, any time you’re angry, or even don’t completely understand what it is you’re feeling, come talk to us. If you’d prefer not to speak with your father, then it can certainly be me. But talk to someone, I can assure you of one thing, holding those feelings in will never make them go away.” Aziraphale was pleased at the small nod he felt against his chest. 

“You’re not gonna leave are you?” Jake asked as he leaned his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder, playing with the edge of his robe. 

Aziraphale couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, “As long as your dad lets me I intend to remain in your life. And if for some reason something did happen and I wasn’t in your dad’s life anymore, if you want me in your life, I will be there.” 

Jake shrugged, “I don’t know why, but it feels like you belong with us.” 

Aziraphale was sure his heart expanded as he cuddled the boy closer for a long moment. “You ready to go back to bed?” He could feel the boy’s body growing heavier and limp, clearly falling back to sleep. 

“Mmhmm,” Jake murmured. 

“I love you both,” he whispered as he put Jake under the covers as well and kissed them both on the head. Heading back into his own room, he checked his mobile for updates from the hospital. Finding none, he changed into some sleep trousers and a t-shirt, before sliding under his own covers. The rest of the world could wait until tomorrow, for now he felt like he could sleep for days. 

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley wakes up, he and Jake have a much needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headed into the end everyone, we're mostly done with angst, there will be one more angsty chapter, but for the most part it's fluff from here on out.

**Chapter Twelve**

The days seemed to go by in a blur really, at first Crowley had shown some mild improvement, only to have a raging fever by the third day of being hospitalized. He had developed pneumonia. They left him in the induced coma, hoping to beat it with medications and rest. Anathema had come to visit the kids and offered to babysit for a little while so Aziraphale could go see Crowley each day. 

Ultimately, seeing him drenched in sweat and shivering, covered in cool packs was far worse than Aziraphale had ever imagined. It looked like the love of his life was slipping away from him. 

It was day four when Lestrade and Donovan stopped by the hospital, catching Aziraphale in the middle of reading to his comatose lover, the soft knock on the door drew his attention away from the book. The silver haired DI was followed by his curly haired partner, "Miss Device said we may find you here, got a couple minutes to discuss the case?" Lestrade asked. 

Aziraphale nodded, "All the time in the world, I'm afraid." They stepped further into the room, both glancing over at their victim. "Right, what's new, she going to get away with this?" He tried not to sound completely bitter about this entire process. He didn't fault women of course, just this one specifically. Women were usually the victims, and now here they were facing a situation where that was clearly not the case. 

"No, actually that's what we've come to tell you. Earlier this morning we arrested Enyo Carmine for the sexual assault and attempted murder of Mr. Crowley. There will of course be multiple other charges, child abuse, child endangerment, spousal abuse. Your ex-boyfriend confessed to being involved as well. She confessed this morning after we caught her in multiple of her own lies, turns out she's really good at lying but not really good at remembering who she said what to," Lestrade explained. 

"Do you think he'll have to testify, or any of them?" Aziraphale replied. 

"It's too soon to know, but it'll depend on how she pleas. Right now, with a confession it's unlikely that she'll try and plead not guilty. If she were to go not guilty, then yes they very well may have to testify. Her solicitor sounded more interested in a shortened deal if she plead out." 

"Max time she could get?" 

Sally spoke this time, "With all the charges least amount of tie is probably twenty-five years, max forty to fifty. We expect the later given that she's done these things repeatedly and there's a clear pattern in both medical records and police records. It's also possible that  Gabriel would be serving some time for his role in the events from that night. Since we've brought her up on charges officially and were able to clear him of any charges. The children will return to his care once he's done recovered." 

On one hand, Aziraphale wanted to celebrate, on the other hand, he simply couldn’t. Crowley was still fighting for his life in the hospital. His children were still having constant nightmares, they worried about their dad. And as for Aziraphale he felt like he was adrift in the sea, never quite aware of his surroundings. 

Day six, Crowley’s pneumonia had begun to improve, they’d decided to remove the breathing tube, and reduce the medication keeping him unconscious. Dr. Jones had even said the children could come visit. That’s where Aziraphale found himself that morning, standing outside a hospital room, crouched between two incredibly small children, trying to decide the best way to explain the situation. “Your father was very ill, and while he’s getting better now, he might look a little scary when you first see him.” He studied them both for a moment, before he squeezed each one of their hands, “I’m here, and it’s quite all right if you need to cry. He won’t be responsive for a while yet, the doctor’s think later this evening, but he can probably hear you and I’m sure he’d love to hear about your adventures in the bookshop over the last week.” 

Giving them another moment to settle into this knowledge, he took a deep breath and stood, pushing the door open he let the two in first, following close behind them. He heard them each gasp in shock. Aziraphale, who had seen Crowley when he’d first arrived and again when he’d been in critical condition with pneumonia was glad to report the man did in fact look significantly better. His color, though still pale, was beginning to return, the bed was up in a more seated position so he could breathe easier. 

To Aziraphale’s main surprise, at the sound of his children’s gasps, two brown orbs fluttered open. Aziraphale instantly saw the weight of exhaustion in those brown eyes, but he saw relief too as a small, weak smile crossed his handsome features. 

“There’s my babies,” Crowley whispered, his voice hoarse from lack of use and the breathing tube. Madi rushed the bed a second later, thankfully Aziraphale was able to pluck her away from trying to climb the bed before she hurt herself or inadvertently pushed a button and hurt her father. Setting her down on one side of Crowley, Aziraphale smiled for what felt like the first time in days. 

Instantly the girl clung to her father, “Daddy I missed you!” she wailed, pressing her face against his hospital gown. 

Crowley could only get one arm around her, the other was still connected to his IV which had been pulling for the last hour and was now sore. “I missed you too, peanut,” he murmured, leaning down just enough to drop a kiss on her head. 

Jake, unlike his sister, hung back a little bit, remaining by Aziraphale’s side, hand in his. In the last several days, Aziraphale’s relationship with the boy had grown significantly, Jake seemed to follow him everywhere. He was always checking to make sure Aziraphale was nearby. At first the bookshop owner had thought it was sweet, but now he was beginning to worry that perhaps he was fearful Aziraphale may get ill too. Now, Jake stood right beside Aziraphale, gripping his hand and had been looking at his father, but now he simply stared at the floor. “Jake, come here bud,” Crowley requested. 

Jake frantically shook his head, his shoulders starting to shake. Aziraphale heard the monitor’s uptick as Crowley grew concerned. Reaching down, he scooped the boy up under his arms and brought Jake to rest against his hip and upper body. Instantly the six year old, who’d been clinging to hope, who’d been more mature than he ever should’ve been asked, who had written off his own nightmares to care for his sister, broke. He broke like a dam after a fierce storm and floods, as if a tsunami came and swept away any and all structures holding him up. 

Aziraphale wrapped his arm not supporting the child around Jake’s back as the boy wailed into his shoulder and neck. His tears hot against Aziraphale’s skin. Moving closer to the bed so that Crowley could reach his distressed child, he took a seat in a chair pulled next to the bed and watched as Crowley gingerly reached out to touch the boy’s hair. 

“Hey, its okay, I’m okay,” Crowley murmured. 

Jake frantically shook his head, his wails grew louder, to the point where Aziraphale was beginning to worry that the child would get sick to his stomach or have a panic attack. “Zira, take Madi out for a minute, please,” Crowley’s voice sounded infinitely stronger in that moment. 

Nodding, though hesitant to release the older boy, he set Jake down on the edge of the bed where Madi had sat and picked her up and stepped outside of the room. Madi was more concerned about her brother, but went willingly. 

“Hey,” Crowley whispered, poking his son in his ribs. 

“I’m sorry!” the child wailed as he curled into his father’s arms against his chest. 

Crowley’s chest ached, only some of which was from being sick. He scooted his son so that he was straddling his lap and truly able to hug his father, and he wrapped both arms around the boy’s back. Tucking the reddish hair under his chin. “Hey, hey, what on earth have you got to be sorry for bub?” He asked as he tucked his chin in to look down at his distraught son. 

“I was so angry at you when you left us with mum, and…and…” 

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath,” Crowley ordered in a gentle tone, “In, hold it, good boy, now let it out.” He paused, rubbing the child’s back. “In again, hold it,” he smiled. “Let it out. Good job. My sweet boy, you’re allowed to be upset with how the world has treated you these last six years.” 

“But, I’m supposed to be strong and protect Madi,” the child moaned as he wiped at his face. 

Crowley pulled the hands away from the tear stained red cheeks, “No, Jacob. You aren’t. You’re supposed to be her older brother. She isn’t your responsibility. I know you feel like she is, and that’s what makes you a good brother, but no one is holding you to that responsibility. Baby,” Crowley groaned as he pressed a kiss to the sweat damp forehead. “My sweet baby boy, you’re only responsibility is to grow and figure out who you are. Let me and Aziraphale take care of the rest, all right? None of this is on you, not one bit, do you understand?”

Jake’s head gave a small nod where it rested against Crowley’s neck and shoulder, “I’m sorry I was mad at you,” Jake murmured.

Crowley chuckled softly, a rumble that reassured Jake his daddy was still with him, “Jacob, you’re six years old and only understand a fraction of the emotions you’re feeling. Trust me when I say there will be so many more chances for you to be angry at me for far less rational reasons.” He pressed his lips to the child’s forehead again. Letting his lips linger there as he took in the familiar scent of a little boy who’d spent far more hours in a bookstore than normal. “I love you so much, Jacob. You and your sister are the most important things in my life.” 

“More than Aziraphale?” 

Crowley smiled as the door opened to see Aziraphale and Madi in the doorway, “Perhaps differently, but just as much.” He waved his hand for Aziraphale to come back over to the bed. His partner set Madi down on his other side, and Crowley pulled both his babies close to him. “I’m so sorry you’ve been put through this, but none of it is your fault. Neither one of you are responsible for any of this,” he assured. 

Unable to stop himself, Aziraphale reached out and stroked his fingers through Crowley’s auburn hair, letting himself feel reassured that the love of his life was going to be okay. Aziraphale wasn’t sure how long they stayed, long after both Madi and Jake fell asleep curled against their father. 

“Thank you, for taking care of them,” Crowley whispered looking over at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth, and found himself suddenly mute. After days of worrying and wondering what would happen, here he was. Face to face with Crowley and suddenly nothing he wanted to say seemed deep enough, important enough to explain what they've been through. 

“And I’m sorry,” Crowley interrupted Aziraphale’s thoughts. “I’m sorry that I threatened Gabriel, that I said what I said to you, that I went out and drank again after…” Crowley stopped, his mouth closing as he realized what had come next. 

Aziraphale leaned forward, reaching out, he cupped Crowley’s jaw, “You are forgiven, forever and always.” He assured the man. He didn’t know what the future held for them, at some point he and Crowley would have to talk about what Enyo had done, about the fact that she was very well going to face serious charges. For now, he was just happy to sit there and bask in the fact that Crowley was awake and cuddling his babies. 

TBC


	13. Nightmares and Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware there's discussion of non-consensual sex in this chapter.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Three days later, Crowley was all but crawling up the walls to get out of the hospital, his system had been cleared of the drugs, his lungs were improving every day. Despite that, Crowley still felt incredibly weak and tired. Getting up to go to the bathroom felt like a challenge, one he huffed and puffed through as sweat beaded on his forehead. 

“Darling, I do wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” Aziraphale commented the morning they were due to check out of the hospital. 

Crowley had sprouted a rather noticeable auburn beard and was presently standing in the loo trying to shave it off. “I’m fine angel,” Crowley lied as he struggled to keep his hand from shaking as he tried to pull the razor across the bristles that had grown on his face. 

“You’re not fine,” Aziraphale sounded exasperated as he stepped into the loo. He was thankful that Newt was watching the children at the bookshop, Crowley didn’t need to hyperactive children on top of everything else at the moment. “Please let me help.” 

Crowley’s hand, still shaking, came down to the sink and he gripped the sides of the sink for a long minute, trying to maintain his composure. He wasn’t dumb, he didn’t need to discuss what had happened to know that he’d slept with Enyo. To know that he didn’t deserve Aziraphale. 

A warm touch was placed between his shoulder blades, and Crowley looked up and over to the set of worried pale blue eyes. “You’re not alone, please, let me help you.” His voice was softer than it had been a moment, sounding more like a prayer than pleading. 

Crowley considered it for a moment, before he nodded and sank down to the toilet lid, chest heaving at the effort moving two feet had taken. His entire body seemed to ache, he felt as if he was one hundred years old. Under all of that, all the surface level pain was a very deep and dark feeling of shame that he just wasn’t sure how to combat. 

The same hand that had been placed on his back, tilted his shaving cream covered chin up, “Talk to me, please?” Aziraphale requested as he gently began to drag the razor down Crowley’s sharp cheekbones. He’d lost weight while in the hospital over the past week, Aziraphale kept promising himself he’d add a little weight to his beloved Crowley. 

Crowley took a couple deep breathes, his chest ached with the effort, reminding him that he’d just had fluid in them. A small cough escaped his lips from the effort, but thankfully Aziraphale had been rinsing the razor. After the coughing, Crowley spoke. I’m sorry I cheated on you.”

Aziraphale’s brows shot up in shock, numerous emotions seemed to cross his face all at once: anger, sadness, dread, but under all of that, Crowley saw undeniable love and adoration. “What?” Aziraphale finally managed to question as he brought himself back from the precipice of wanting to kill another human being. He silently thanked God that Enyo wasn’t in the room. 

Crowley studied his...Aziraphale for a moment, “I...I had sex with Enyo.” 

The bookshop owner shook his head, as he continued to shave Crowley’s neck and cheeks, “I know that you daft idiot. She drugged you, or did you miss that bit?” There wasn’t a nice way to dance around this, he had to stop this train before it ever left the station. 

“I still had sex with her,” Crowley’s mumbled reply told Aziraphale the train may have left said station a long time ago. Crowley saw Aziraphale’s silence as confirmation of what he’d done, he felt his own personal walls start building back up, thinking about how he could pack up the kids and where to take them. 

Aziraphale saw the shift in Crowley’s eyes immediately, going from earnest to cold and unfeeling in under a minute, “No, no, we’re talking about this. You’ve avoided this for three days. I get that you don’t want to talk in detail, maybe you don’t even remember the details. But Crowley, did you ever at any point consent to having sex with her?” Aziraphale reasoned as he soaked a flannel to wipe off the remnants of the shaving cream. 

Crowley didn’t answer, he just looked down at his hands between them, until Aziraphale forced him to look up with his other hand, “No,” Crowley finally answered, his jaw was tight as if even saying the word had caused him physical pain. 

Aziraphale was at least thankful Crowley was willing to listen, “Did you say no or stop?” 

Crowley’s chin trembled in Aziraphale’s hand, “Yes.” 

“Love, I’m so sorry to say this, but you were raped and it was terrible and tragic, but it sure as fuck wasn’t your fault. I will not sit here and watch you beat yourself up for something you simply did not want.” 

Crowley sniffed, quiet for a long minute, as he considered Aziraphale’s words. If Crowley admitted to himself that he hadn’t cheated with Enyo, that this hadn’t been his choice, somehow it made the shame deeper and so much worse. Finally, unsure what else to say, Crowley smirked, “You said fuck.” 

Aziraphale chuckled at that, “I suppose I did. Dear, please do not fret over this. I do not feel that you cheated on me, I am not angry with you. All I am is thankful that you’re alive and here with me again. Now, let’s finish getting you dressed so that we can get you home.” 

Aziraphale helped Crowley stand, still wobbly as if his legs weren’t made of solid matter, rather jello or pudding. That’s certainly what it felt like Crowley was walking through as he pushed one leg in front of the other. “I hate this.” 

“The weakness is temporary my love, it’ll get better, easier,” Aziraphale assured as they made it to the bed after several minutes and a long shuffle. Crowley’s color which had returned to this point, had drained some and he was left looking pale and sweaty. “We’ll lie down for a nap once we’re home.” 

Crowley just nodded as he let Aziraphale help him get dressed. Each movement felt like he was trying to move thousands of pounds, rather than just his skinny arms and legs. Finally, Crowley was dressed and Dr. Jones arrived with discharge instructions. She went over everything with Aziraphale, and then the pair helped Crowley into the wheelchair. By this point his limbs shook with exertion and he was ready to sleep for a few days. 

The drive to the bookshop was fairly quiet, Aziraphale would occasionally interrupt the silence to tell Crowley what his kids had been up to, but for the most part, Crowley struggled to stay away and stay focused. 

Arriving at the bookshop, Crowley felt his energy pick up ever so slightly at the prospect of seeing his children. Aziraphale parked the car and came around to help Crowley. “They know to be gentle.” 

Anathema greeted them at the door, her dark brown eyes filled with a mixture of happiness to see Crowley up and about, but concern as well knowing none of what came next would be easy. 

They managed to get up the stairs to the flat, it was the first time Aziraphale wished he had a lift installed, and Anathema bid them a goodbye shortly there after. Crowley and Aziraphale laid down on the bed with the two children cuddled between them. As Aziraphale looked over at his lover he sighed at the sight of those tired brown eyes, “The detectives would like to speak with you tomorrow.” 

“What about Madi and Jake?” 

“I spoke to my sister, she’s happy to take them for the day. They met Adam and the Youngs two days ago, they’ve taken to them,” Aziraphale informed Crowley. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this past week and a half. Christ, is that really how long it’s been, just a bloody week. Aziraphale, if you want us to go.” 

“Don’t you finish that sentence, Anthony Crowley,” Aziraphale half whispered half choked. “I’ve spent the better part of a weak dreading never seeing you again. Don’t you dare try and protect me from you. I don’t want that. Not at all, all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.” 

Crowley smirked, “Right then, I think we should go put these two in their own bed, because I’m tired and could really enjoy a cuddle. Don’t tell anyone I ever said that though.” 

Aziraphale chortled at that, and the two of them took son and daughter into the other bedroom. Once both were soundly tucked in and fast asleep Crowley and Aziraphale returned to the bedroom. They lay there for a few moments, Crowley holding Aziraphale in his arms, face to back. “ “I love you,” Crowley smiled before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale gladly pulled the man a little closer and returned the kiss. After a few moments they pulled apart, Crowley breathing heavier from his still weak lungs, “I’m not sure I’m up for...more yet.” 

“Physically or emotionally?” Aziraphale’s question was rather pointed. 

“Both.” 

“Quite all right my love. Sex is only a facet of a relationship. I don’t need it to adore you. Now, get some rest.” 

_ He felt lightheaded as he struggled to get a good look around, he felt hands on him, holding him down a body pressing into and on his. Moaning he felt his body reacting and thrusting upwards. But the scent wasn’t right, it wasn’t Aziraphale, his mind began to churn and his stomach twist. “Lemmme go,” he moaned trying to pull away.  _

_ “Shh, take it easy tiger, we’ve got all night,” the husky female voice purred in his ear with a particularly sharp thrust downward. He sobbed and tried to throw her off of him.  _

_ “NO!” _ Crowley screamed sitting up and panting, sweat drenched his body and his lungs spasmed as he tried desperately to draw air into them, only to tumble into a coughing and hacking fit. 

Aziraphale, who’d felt his lover tossing and turning awoke at the sound of his scream, He was vaguely aware that the children between them looked scared as they sat unsure of what to do. “Jake go get me a glass of water please,” Aziraphale encouraged as he reached out and put is hand on Crowley’s back to help support him. 

“Don’t TOUCH ME!” Crowley jerked away mightly, crashing off the bed and stumbling into the loo before he slammed the door shut. 

“Shit,” Aziraphale cursed rushing to the door, “Crowley let me in, love.” 

“Go away,” Crowley sobbed, his face in his hands as he realized he was as hard as a rock. Some rational part of his brain knew full well this was normal, but another part hated himself. “Go away!” he shouted again, but this time it was directed at himself. 

“Crowley, please, darling,” he whispered, having knelt down outside the door. Aziraphale heard Jake’s feet and glanced over his shoulder to see the boy standing there. Madi still sat on the bed, eyes watering nervously. 

“Is dad okay?” 

Aziraphale let out a shaky breath, “Just a nightmare, lad, could you leave the water by the table and take your sister and go lay down, play in your room?” 

“Kay.” Jake replied softly before leaving the room. 

Aziraphale sat on the other side of the door listening to the sound of his best friend and lover sob. His own eyes watered at the idea of his friend suffering alone, but Crowley didn’t enjoy sharing his emotions with other people, he never had. “Please Crowley, let me at least comfort you.” 

It seemed like an eternity before the door opened a crack and Aziraphale was able to frantically get inside. Crowley was curled up in front of the tub, sobbing into his arms, covering his face. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened, Aziraphale moved slowly over towards Crowley, keeping his hands out, “It’s normal, Crowley.” 

“I’m fucking hard, Aziraphale!” hissed Crowley. 

“Yes, and you were raped, against your will, drugged against your will. You had a nightmare, it’s a perfectly normal reaction to a dream about sex. You don’t have to enjoy the sex for your body to respond darling.” 

“Fuck I hate this!” Crowley shouted. 

Aziraphale nodded, “Me too and I’m so sorry, please, can I just...put my arm around your shoulders.” 

“I hate myself,” Crowley’s voice broke as he nodded and let Aziraphale in closer. 

“It’s all right, darling, I can love you enough for the both of us while we get this all sorted.” Promised Aziraphale as he pulled the man close and pressed a kiss to his head.

Aziraphale wasn’t really aware how long they sat there on the cold bathroom floor, Crowley crying and praying that his cock would stop having a mind of its own. It was some time later though, that they both managed to get up and go back to bed. Crowley’s body had stiffened while he sat in one position on the floor, now as they laid back down, he could feel his muscles screaming in pain, he was so tired. 

“What if I can’t ever get this under control?” Crowley asked, there was a hitch in his voice and fear in his eyes as he looked at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale sighed, “Honestly love, I’ll ask you to go to counseling long before that.” 

Before Crowley could answer, the door to their bedroom opened again, this time both Madi and Jake stood there. “Right come on you two,” Crowley encouraged, ready for a hint of normalcy. 

When Crowley woke the next morning, he found a foot nestled in one kidney and a head planted under his chin. Turning his head he smirked at the sight of Jake curled up under his arm and chin, cuddled up close between Aziraphale and Crowley. Meanwhile Madi’s head was on a pillow lying across Aziraphale’s knees, one foot strongly pushing into his side. 

He met a familiar pair of blue eyes over his son’s head, they were filled with delight and love. Crowley reached out, knowing he’d regret it the second he did it, and tickled the foot in his side. A surprised scream and a second later a sharp kick to his kidney and everyone in the bed was awake and chuckling. “No daddy,” Madi grinned as she scooted closer to Aziraphale. 

“I’ll protect you peanut,” Aziraphale promised with a grin, “From that wily snake,” he joked. 

“Right then, I think it’s time for breakfast, and then we’ll make sure all school work is done so we’re ready for Monday,” Crowley suggested, his son groaning at his side, obviously displeased at the idea of doing school work. “Right then, breakfast for the two of you, then you’re off to play with Adam for the day.” 

“Aziraphale?” Jake asked, ignoring his father’s comment. 

“Yes?” 

“What can we call you?” 

Aziraphale’s brows drew together, “Whatever do you mean, my dear boy? Do you not like Aziraphale?”

“No, I do. But...you’re gonna eventually be our other dad, right?” 

Aziraphale turned bright red, which made Crowley grin like a proud idiot, “I suppose I will be, yes. But it’s no rush, you may call me whatever you’re comfortable calling me.” 

“We call dad dad….and two dads being yelled for, at the same time might get confusing.” 

Both Aziraphale and Crowley were trying desperately hard not to laugh at the child for his obvious concern. “Right, well, that’s fair. I suppose you could do some research, find a good alternative if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“Abba is Hewbrew for dad,” Crowley offered grinning.

“I like that! Daddy and Abba!” cheered Madi as she pressed a wet kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek.

TBC


	14. Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A single picture can change your entire world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wasn't doing to post this for a few more days, but honestly I love the last chapter so much I simply can't wait to post it. I keep going back to edit and make things better, but I just love that chapter so bloody much. So here's the second to last chapter, next one up soon.

**Chapter Fourteen**

It had been three months since the assault, and Crowley liked to think he was coping relatively well, he and his two children were seeing a therapist (at Aziraphale’s insistence), even Aziraphale had attended a couple sessions with Crowley. The two had told Jake and Madi they were going to be married next fall. 

So, when the phone rang, disturbing Crowley from his late afternoon read with Madi, he looked up to see Aziraphale answer, “Hello?” Aziraphale answered, Crowley listened for a moment before looking over at his partner who’s brows had drawn together, his lips pouting out a bit. “Yes, we’ll see you soon then.” 

“Everything all right, angel?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale hung up the phone, his face still a picture of concern, “I’m not entirely sure. Anathema is on her way to tell us something, she sounded…unsettled.” In the three months since the attack and rape, Crowley had given his version of what had happened, which matched closely to Gabriel and the bartender, thus confirming Enyo had been lying from the get go. She was in jail and would have her hearing to determine if there would be a trail or if she’d plea out of it. The rumor of it was that Enyo intended to plea guilty for a shorter term in prison. Aziraphale hoped that hadn’t changed suddenly. He wasn’t sure how Crowley would handle something like that. 

Crowley nodded, shifting his daughter out of his arms and putting her on her feet, he stood, dusting off his pants, “When is she arriving?” 

“Any minute,” Aziraphale offered as a reply, wringing his hands nervously as all of his ideas progressively became worse and worse. 

“Jake, can you take your sister upstairs and keep her occupied for a little while?” Crowley instructed gently. 

Jake, who had been reading his homework at Aziraphale’s desk nodded, sliding off his chair, he reached his hand out, taking the girl’s hand the two headed to the flat upstairs. 

Anathema arrived five minutes later looking a little stressed, but otherwise normal. She looked mildly flustered, her lips drawn into a straight line as she gave them both a forced and strained smile. They headed into the back room, sitting down while Aziraphale made some tea. Once done the trio sat around a table quietly, Crowley and Aziraphale both nervously glancing between their young friend and one another. Anathema held a folder in her hands, worrying at her lip with her teeth, “I’m not sure the best way to do this, so I’ll just rip the bandaid off,” she opened the folder and pulled out a single picture before passing it over to Crowley. 

As the picture came into his their view, Crowley felt his brain come to a halting screech, like rusty cogs in a machine, on the table a single black and white photo sat before them. The outside of the picture was black, with a few numbers and information printed on the top and bottom. In the middle a fuzzy looking gray and white image, in the middle of that image was a circle of black with a single bulbous looking figure. It was easy enough to see it, a head, two little arms and tiny legs. 

Crowley felt his heart speeding up as he tried to pull air into his mouth, a rational part of his brain knew perfectly well what he was looking at and whose it was. The part of his brain that had spent three months compartmentalizing everything wanted to furiously deny it. “Ana, if you’re asking us to your child’s god-parents the answer is obviously yes,” the joke was a weak attempt at best. His heart was pounding in his head, he felt sweat breaking out on his back and neck. He felt a single warm hand on the center of his back, and he focused for a few seconds. 

His brain went to his default anxiety treatment: Five things he could smell; Aziraphale’s cologne which was a stunning mixture of sandalwood, books and lavender, the tea in front of him that was some orange spice tea Aziraphale had become rather fond of during stressful moments, Anathema’s unique smell of sage and other occultish herbs that the woman used when she wasn’t with clients, hints of rain from this morning were wafting through a couple open windows, the beginnings of spring and summer and new flowers blooming. By the time he felt himself returning to reality he heard Anathema’s response. 

Anathema let out a wet chuckle as she wiped at her eye with her thumb, “God I wish I was.” 

Aziraphale tried to swallow past the desert that seemed to have found its way into his throat, his hand still sat on Crowley’s back,“Enyo is pregnant ...from…because of her actions that night?” 

Crowley just sat there and stared down at the sonogram. Two different parts of his brain were warring, on the one hand, this was a completely innocent child, who had not asked to be brought into this world, and rationally he knew that while the child was his, no one was going to make him accept the child as his own. On the other hand, probably like any women who got pregnant from this sort of situation, this child was the byproduct of one of the worst nights of his life, one of the worst memories of his life, the little of it he’d retained. And while it wasn’t the child’s fault, a small part of him felt searing rage for its very existence. 

He wanted to demand proof, shout that it wasn’t possible. The truth was though, he’d been drugged for the vast majority of it, and she’d been in an all women's facility since she’d been arrested two days after his hospitalization. He wasn’t stupid. So, instead he just sat there and stared at the tiny little peanut shaped alien baby in the picture. Knowing without a doubt in six months he had to make a decision. 

Crowley startled when he felt a hand on his arm, he glanced up to see both Anathema and Aziraphale studying him, their faces filled with concern and fear. “You don’t have to keep the child, even if she insists on carrying to term, which she presently she is. You never have to meet the child. You could give him or her up for adoption,” Aziraphale promised, rubbing his thumb in circles on Crowley’s forearm. 

Could he really though? Could he live with himself knowing there was a child of his out there dealing with only god knows what and living god knows where? Could he tell his children that, could he live with that burden? 

Anathema, seeing clearly that Crowley was struggling to process this information sighed and stood, “I’ll leave that with you. If you’d like, Newt and I can babysit the kids this weekend so you two can talk about it. No decisions have to be made immediately.” 

“But you’re certain she intends to carry to term?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes flickering between the picture and his partner. 

“She’s made that much abundantly clear, yes,” Anathema didn’t add that Enyo smiled as if it was one final chance to get one over on Crowley. 

“Right, yes dear, actually, I’m sure if you wanted to head up there now, they’d be quite happy to see you,” Aziraphale offered. 

Crowley didn’t remember his children leaving, he didn’t remember Aziraphale giving him another cup of hot tea. All he remembered was the black and white photo staring up at him from the little table in the back of the bookshop. 

“Crowley, darling?” Aziraphale prompted, “You’ve been very quiet.” 

There were a million emotions coursing through his brain right now, anger, excitement, happiness, hatred, resentment. A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and he looked up into the beautiful blue eyes of his partner, they hadn’t even gotten married yet. Would Aziraphale leave him? Crowley couldn’t blame if he decided to, god knows he hadn’t signed up for two kids much less three. Was that the decision then, was Crowley taking this child no matter what? 

“Anthony, breathe,” he felt Aziraphale shake him briefly, and Crowley gave a short nod, taking in a shaky breathing of air. “Darling, remember what Lisa said, you are not alone in these feelings. For me to properly support you, you must share.” 

Crowley’s body shook for a moment and he nodded, “I…I…”

“Would you like me to call Lisa, she if maybe she could fit us in a quick appointment?” 

Aziraphale was pleasantly surprised when Crowley nodded. Thirty-five minutes later they sat in a private counselor’s office. Their counselor, Lisa, sat across from them in a comfortable overstuffed chair, hands crossed, with a cup of coffee in her hands as they sat more rigidly on the couch opposite her. Aziraphale had explained briefly over the phone the situation, and she’d moved a couple things around for an emergency session. 

All eyes were on Crowley, “Anthony, darling?” Aziraphale said again, trying to prompt his love to speak. 

Lisa gave Aziraphale and Anthony a small smile, “It’s okay, he’s probably processing everything still. Crowley, tell me about this picture?” she requested, pointing to the black and white sonogram on the table between them. 

“Enyo is pregnant,” Crowley finally spoke, his voice was the only calm thing about him. The rest of his body seemed taut and coiled ready for attack. 

Lisa nodded in understanding, “I’m betting that caused a number of emotions, can you tell me what the very, very first one was?” 

Crowley looked down at the sonogram before he looked at Lisa, “He or she didn’t sign up for this. It’s not their fault.” 

Lisa’s lips twitched, tempted to smile, but she remained professional. From the first two sessions with Crowley one thing had been remarkably clear, he was meant to be a father and while yes it was exhausting and yes it sometimes stressed him out, he was by far one of the most doting and loving fathers she’d ever seen. “Tell me about that.” 

“What’s to tell, this kid is just as much of a victim of this as I am. Neither one of us asked for that night to happen, it was forced on us and now life is being forced on him or her.” 

“Does that make you angry?” 

“I hate her so much,” Crowley whispered, his voice filled with quiet rage, “I wish Enyo would die and never bother me again.” 

Lisa paused and looked at Aziraphale, she could sense the blonde wanted to dispute that claim, but she noted he pressed his lips together. “It’s okay to feel that way, Crowley. She’s put you through a lot of crap. No matter what anyone says, you’re allowed to hate her and be angry and resentful at her. But what about this child. If this child were four or five, what would you say to them?” 

He opened his mouth to say he wasn’t sure, but he realized he was, “I’d apologize that they’re stuck with me for a parent.” 

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, gripping his partner’s hand. “None of them are stuck with you. They adore you. So will this little chimp, if that’s what you want.”

Crowley was shaking his head looking over at Aziraphale, “How are you so calm about this? Don’t you want to run away? I cheated on you…and this is a byproduct.” 

Before Aziraphale could harshly contradict the statement, Lisa held up her hand to silence him. “Crowley, we’ve talked about this, remember. You were drugged that night, you remember a fraction of what boils down to an hour and a half, and it’s not a big fraction. If it had happened to Aziraphale or even a female friend, would you be blaming them, telling them they cheated?” 

Crowley stared down silently at his hands in his lap. “No,” he whispered. 

“Crowley, does drinking mean consent?” 

“No.” 

“What about being drunk?”

Another whispered, “No.” 

“Drugs, unwillingly, I should add, is that consent?” 

“I get the point,” hissed Crowley. 

Lisa paused, catching his eyes, “Do you? Because that’s what we’re talking about here. You didn’t cheat, you didn’t consent to any of this. Like you just said, you were put into this position and it’s no one’s fault but Enyo’s. What do I say about the emotion guilt?” 

Crowley rolled his eyes, “It’s a useless emotion that serves no purpose to anyone.” 

“Precisely. So, ask Aziraphale the question, but find another way to phrase it without taking the blame.” 

It was clear the redhead was annoyed, jaw clenched and sharp enough to cut glass, but he shook his head and looked over at his partner. “How are you so calm about this? I…I wanted our next child to be ours.” 

Aziraphale’s expressive blue eyes softened and widened in surprise, and if Lisa could describe what swooning looked like, it would be Aziraphale’s face as he looked at Crowley like he’d hung the moon and the stars. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something, only to promptly close it, his eyes tearing up. He reached out and took Crowley’s hand in his. He was quiet for another minute, considering the next words he wanted to say. “Crowley, my love I adore you, more than words will ever properly describe. That love encompasses your children. I don’t care that Madi, Jacob and this child don’t have my genes. They likely wouldn’t have anyway, or at least one of them probably wouldn’t have. That’s not what makes a family, that’s not what makes me the parent.” He smiled for a moment fondly, “It’s like when Adam’s biological dad came along, trying to be in his life. Adam proudly told him to go stuff it, that real dad’s done just appear at the age of eleven. I’ve spent three months loving those two, holding them after nightmares, reading them bedtime stories, that’s what makes me their Abba. I love them because they’re a part of you. As for how I can be calm about this,” he shrugged. “It’s an intense situation and I know you’re going to struggle with it, but I also know I can make it easier by saying whatever you chose I support you, one hundred percent. If that means raising this wee one, then I look forward to loving another piece of you.” 

Crowley didn’t speak, or move for a minute, letting Aziraphale’s words sink in, before he leaned over and hugged his partner. “I love you.” 

Aziraphale smiled, leaning his head against Crowley’s, “I know, I love you too.” 

Lisa spoke again, “At the end of the day Crowley, this decision doesn’t need to be made right now. You also can change your mind. Maybe you decide today you don’t want to keep the child, you want to put him or her up for adoption. Then a month or two out you change your mind, you can do that. There are no rules, no guidelines and as long as you don’t sign any paperwork, the child is legally yours to make the decision with.” 

“What do you think I should do?” Crowley asked her, leaning against Aziraphale. 

Lisa sighed, “I honestly don’t think my opinion, or anyone else’s matters. Professionally, as a counselor, I think this decision is yours and yours alone.” 

“Unprofessionally?” 

She chuckled, “I think, from a religious standpoint, in that I believe in a higher power, I think sometimes God doesn’t give us what we want, but she always gives us something we need and I think that this child has the potential to help you heal maybe even a little quicker after all of this. But, it’s still not my life and it’s not my decision.” 

Crowley nodded, “Thank you.” 

She smiled at them, “Right then, out you go, forty-five minutes are up and I’ve got another client waiting.” 

TBC


	15. A Baby makes Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and made a number of changes to this chapter, in a variety of ways, and every time I made changes I kept coming back to this version. I'm happy with this ending, is it perfect, probably not. But it feels right.

**Chapter Fifteen**

Five and a half months had gone by in a blur, and in that time they’d moved out of their respective flats and into a house closer to Tadfield, Anathema and Newt had joined them in a little cottage and now they were closer to Adam and his parents. The house had three rooms and now a nursery that could later be converted into a third child’s room. 

They’d prepped, and done everything needed to prepare for another baby, it was a girl they’d learned at week twenty. They’d now have two girls and a boy, Aziraphale had joked that maybe one day they should go for an even four and his genes could be used. Crowley had smiled fondly at his partner over that. 

There was an agreement in place, they would keep the baby, but Enyo never would get to hold it, she’d never see the child and once the child was born and she was cared for, Enyo would return to serve her time in prison. She would serve at least a maximum of at least forty years in prison, then only eligible for probation at which time she would be required to remain away from her ex-husband and children, including the newest one. If she broke the probation, she went back to prison.

Still as they got to the last two weeks of the pregnancy, Crowley couldn’t help but feel like he was constantly on edge. Everyone had been clear, he didn’t have to see Enyo, didn’t have to talk to her or touch her. But this child was going to be partly hers. Then again, all three of their children were partly hers. 

When the call came from the doctor announcing the child was coming, they headed to the hospital. They were greeted by a kind nurse who clearly understood enough of the situation to let them know the child was in the nursery but they were welcome to come see her. 

They followed her into the nursery where a handful of babies lay in varying states of crying or sleep. He saw the child immediately though, a flash of bright auburn red hair poked out between a cute little black beanie. 

“Would you like to meet her?” The nurse asked. 

“Can we?” Aziraphale asked, he had to admit he’d gotten more and more excited over the recent months at the idea of a baby in the house. Crowley had joked he’d been nesting the last few weeks. 

The nurse smiled, “Of course, we have private rooms for new dads and I understand that’s the situation here, follow me.” She led them to a small delivery room that was unoccupied other than a couch and two large chairs. 

“Why don’t you two have a seat on the couch,” Aziraphale encouraged. 

The nurse who had showed them to the room returned a few moments later pushing a baby bassinet. The tiny baby with the small black beanie on its head had her eyes wide open looking around as she occasionally cooed. 

“I assume you’ve heard of kangaroo care?” she asked the two men. Crowley nodded, but Aziraphale’s unsure glance prompted her to continue. “It’s skin to skin contact. We encourage mothers and fathers to open or remove their shirt entirely, and we unswaddle the baby and lay them on your chest. It helps soothe the baby. While she seems calm now, it also helps her get used to your presence and bond with you.” 

“Oh,” Azirphale whispered as look over nervously at Crowley. His lover, however still looked like a deer caught in the headlights, like he wasn’t sure how to think or feel. For the most part, Crowley had come to terms with the girl’s existence. But now that she was truly here, Aziraphale wondered if that would change. Deciding he wanted to be the first to hold her, he removed his jacket and vest, and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. 

A wave of nervousness flowed over him, what if he held her wrong, what if he didn’t have enough love to give her? What if--his thoughts were cut off as the nurse instructed him to sit in one of the comfortable leather chairs and lean back. Doing as he was told, he watched as she unwrapped the newborn, who started fussing, of course just like her father, Aziraphale thought. Then suddenly there was a tiny warm little body snuggled up against his hairy chest. 

Aziraphale realized in that single perfect moment, he was truly an utter goner. He knew he was crying, he felt an overwhelming torrent of emotions as he held the tiny baby in his arms and stared down at her in utter awe. Her little scrunched up red face, her wide dark blue eyes that would eventually turn to brown probably. Without thinking he pulled her beanie off and let out a small sob, her hair looked just like Crowley’s. She had his nose too, as the nurse laid the blanket over both of them, she smiled, “Don’t worry dad, everyone cries when they hold their first.” 

He pressed his lips together and nodded, still unable to speak as he just held her close to him. This tiny little life. 

“She’s so little,” Madi, who had turned four two months ago, whispered as she got off the couch and moved toward her Abba and the baby. 

Crowley finally spoke, a loving smile on his handsome features, “So were you.” 

“Really?” 

Crowley chuckled as he nodded. He scooted his chair over beside Aziraphale’s, pulling his older two up onto his lap. “You both were.” 

“Madi was smaller,” Jake pointed out. 

“Why?” Madi asked, looking back at her father.

“Because you were about six weeks early, scared us to pieces,” he said, kissing the top of her head. 

Aziraphale, who was still trying to rein in his emotions looked over at the father and two children and he felt another sob slip from his lips. Crowley let out a small chuckle, before he reached his hand up and caressed his partner’s cheek. “I know love, it’s a bit overwhelming at first.” 

“Can we hold her daddy?” Madi asked.

“Aye, but let Abba hold her a little longer, he hasn’t gotten this experience before,” Crowley whispered. He knew exactly what Aziraphale was feeling, it was a wave of desire to protect the precious life in his arms and complete, utter love for another life that he was now responsible for. Sure, Aziraphale loved Madi and Jake as his own, but Aziraphale hadn’t been there when they’d been born. He hadn’t had this awe inspiring moment, followed by getting to watch them grow and learn. As Crowley watched his partner, husband and love of his life crying softly into the soft auburn locks of their newborn baby, he knew they were going to be okay. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in a few months, but eventually. And Crowley knew this was the happiest he’d ever felt in his entire life. “I love you, Az.” 

Aziraphale couldn’t manage a reply, he just nodded and continued to cuddle his newborn, still burying his nose against her beautiful red curls. 

“Right, what should we name her?” Crowley asked as he decided to give his partner a moment. 

“Buttercup!” suggested Madi. 

“She’s a girl, not a dog, stupid,” Jake replied with a huff of laughter. 

Crowley nudged his son, “Don’t call her stupid. In fairness though, we can’t call her buttercup, sorry darling.” 

Jake just snorted again and shook his head. He reached out, around his sister, squishing her against the arm of the chair, which earned him an elbow to the ribs, to gently pet her soft red hair. “Hey you two, quit or you’ll go back to the couch.” 

“Rose,” Jake whispered. 

Aziraphale and Crowley’s eyes met, “She does rather have red hair like a rose,” Aziraphale whispered as he gave Crowley a watery smile, more tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Rose, I quite like that,” Crowley replied. Suddenly for the first time since he’d heard about his third child’s existence he felt the familiar itch of need to hold her. “Right, pass her over Abba,” he demanded gently, more than ready to welcome their newest family member.

Aziraphale’s eyes filled with happiness and affection as Crowley unbuttoned his own shirt, Jake slid off his dad’s lap, and watched them pass Rose over to dad. Crowley took her into his arms with practiced ease, supporting her head and bringing her to rest against his chest, “Hello little Rose,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. 

Aziraphale had to admit he was a bit surprised when Jake crawled into his lap. He accepted the boy with ease, wrapping his arms around the child’s waist and smiling as he found yet another head resting against his neck and shoulder. “What’s the matter, my boy?” 

“I wish you’d been here to hold me like that,” whispered Jake. “I love you Abba.” 

Aziraphale, still choked up from holding Rose squeezed the boy a bit tighter, “Oh my dear Jacob. I wish I had been too, but I’m so glad I get to be here for the rest.” He pressed a kiss atop the child’s hair and then leaned his cheek against Jake’s hair. He couldn’t begin to describe what it felt like to watch Crowley hold their third child, while they cuddled the first two. This was the life he’d always wanted, always hoped. 

Madi had turned to sit sideways on Crowley’s lap, now taking up the other half of his chest as she stared at the tiny baby. “She’s perfect daddy.” 

Crowley smiled, “You all were,” he’d been so in love with each of them, as he held Rose, he couldn’t imagine having ever doubted he could love her as much as his older children. 

“What’cha think, Az, want another one in a few years?” He asked playfully. 

Aziraphale grinned, “So very much.” 

**The End...for now**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end of the story. Hard to believe. I've really enjoyed writing this story, but through the process I've learned ways I want to grow and develop as a writer. I have another series in mind that I'm planning to start, however this is likely to be the last solo project for a month or so, as I need to study for an exam I need to my actual job. 
> 
> So stay tuned, I promise there will be more from me in the Good Omens world. I will be writing a co-authored piece here soon, while working on my own stuff and studying for my exam. Thanks for your patience and support and I look forward to returning ready to bust out a number of ideas I've got.


End file.
